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||g LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. --, ;* 



THE RECOLLECTIONS 
OF A PLAYER 



RECOLLECTIONS 
OF A PLATER 



BY 

J. H. STODDAET 



•ffilustratefc 




NEW YOEK 

THE CENTUEY CO. 

MCMII 



THE LIBRARY OF 

CONGRESS, 
Two Cop.E8 Received 

SEP, *6 *902 

GoovrigHT ENTRY 

CLASS ^XXc No. 
Ihf 2 d 9 
COPY A. 






Copyright, 1902, by 
The Century Co, 



Published October. 1902 






THE DEVINNE PRESS. 



TO MY DAUGHTER 
MARY C. STODDART 



A PREFATORY NOTE 

BY WILLIAM WINTER 

ON a memorable night in the dramatic 
season of 1901-1902 the comedian 
James H. Stoddart, whose book of theat- 
rical memories is now submitted to the 
reader, came forth at the Eepublic The- 
ater, in New York, and astonished the 
audience with a great performance. The 
character was Lachlan Campbell, a repre- 
sentative Scotchman— proud, stern, self- 
contained, resolute, deeply religious, ten- 
der, and true— in a domestic play called 
"The Bonnie Brier Bush," adroitly con- 
structed out of episodes in the writings of 
that fine genius Ian Maclaren. The sea- 
son, although busy and laborious, had not 
been fertile in fine things, and this imper- 
vii 



A PREFATORY NOTE 

sonation, extraordinary for sincerity, ele- 
mental power, and over whelming pathos, 
came npon the community with the force 
of a revelation. Spectators, even of the 
most hardened kind, suddenly found them- 
selves impressed with the power of good- 
ness and the dignity of virtuous human 
nature, and moved beyond control by the 
spectacle of strife, in a good mans heart, 
between the sense of justice and the sacred 
passion of paternal love. The theme is sim- 
plicity itself. The actor's treatment of 
the theme was that delicate exaggeration 
which produces the perfect effect of nature. 
A result so uncommon, gained with such 
facile ease and by means so simple, 
might well cause surprise. Since that 
night Mr. Stoddart has been recognized, 
by multitudes of contemporary playgoers 
who were almost heedless of him before, 
as one of the leaders in his profession. 

Old playgoers, however, were not aston- 
ished by Mr. Stoddart's performance of 
LacMan Campbell, for to them Mr. Stod- 
dart had long been a leader. Achieve- 
ments of this kind and actors of this order 
viii 



A PEEFATOKY NOTE 

were more frequent in earlier times than 
they are now. Survivors of the genera- 
tion that saw Burton and Blake in their 
prime and Wallack's Theater in its best 
days can recall a period when exceptional 
models of acting were frequently dis- 
played, and when the stage rarely failed 
to reward attention by exhibitions of se- 
rious worth and memorable importance. 
Burton as Captain Cuttle ; Blake as the Last 
Man; Lysander Thompson as Bob Tyke; 
the elder Wallack as Reuben Glenroy ; the 
elder Charles "Walcot as Touchstone; the 
elder Hackett as Monsieur Tonson and Sir 
Pertinax Macsycophant ; John Mckinson 
as Haversac ; E. L. Davenport as William ; 
John E. Owens as Caleb Plummer and 
Doctor Pangloss ; James W. Wallack, Jr., 
as the King of the Commons ; Lester Wal- 
lack as Charles Surface, Harry Lornton, 
and Sir Oswin Mortland; John Sefton as 
Crack, Jemmy Tivitcher, and Silky ; William 
Warren as Sir Peter Teazle ; John Gilbert 
as Mr. Dornton, Lord Ogleby, Mr. Oakley, 
Sir Anthony Absolute, and Master Walter ; 
Charles Fisher as Goldfinch and Nicholas 
ix 



A PEEFATOEY NOTE 

Bue ; Henry Placide as Grandfather White- 
head and Corporal Cartouche; Charles 
Wheatleigh as Triplet; Charles W. Coul- 
dock as Lake Fielding; John Brougham 
as Dazzle; Barney Williams in "The 
Irish Lion" ; and W. J. Florence in "The 
Irish Emigrant " — these performances, 
and many more like these, each perfect 
in its way and all admirable, once were 
things of every-day occurrence, and supe- 
riority was so common that it often passed 
unnoted. Those were the days when Mr. 
Stoddart came upon the scene, and such 
were some of the competitors among 
whom he made his way and held his 
place. 

No thoughtful student of history will 
indulge in wholesale depreciation of the 
present as contrasted with the past, for, 
in some material particulars, the world is 
more prosperous and comfortable to-day 
than it ever was before ; but certainly it 
is true that, in acting as well as in liter- 
ature, fine and substantial things— things 
having in them the grandeur of noble 
truth and the fire of genial passion— were 
x 



A PKEFATOKY NOTE 

more frequent forty or fifty years ago 
than they are now. The actor of the old 
school, as he is commonly called, was an 
actor thoroughly grounded in his profes- 
sion, trained by experience, equipped at 
all points, able to do many things well 
and some things brilliantly, and, whatever 
may have been his defects, solid and sta- 
ble in character, moderate in self-confi- 
dence, and usually modest in the conduct 
of life. To that type of actor the influ- 
ences of the older time were tributary, 
for it was a time of more staid ideas and 
more ceremonious manners than are now 
prevalent, a time of far less fever and of 
far more repose. Mr. Stoddart, to those ob- 
servers whose fortune it has been to view 
the stage from the inside, has ever been 
conspicuous for unpretending worth, un- 
failing geniality, sweetness of tempera- 
ment, gentleness of bearing, probity of 
conduct, and patient and thorough per- 
formance of duty. His congenital inher- 
itance was fortunate, and his early sur- 
roundings favored the development of 
such a character ; for the stage in Scot- 
xi 



A PREFATORY NOTE 

land, where he passed his youth and had 
his novitiate, was a different institution 
from what it is now— as anybody can see 
who will read Jackson's "History" and 
such dramatic memoirs as Gait's "Lives" 
and Bernard's "Reminiscences." The 
life of an actor in those days had to 
be one of economy, frugality, toil, and 
self-denial, and it was only to the great 
lights of the profession— and not always 
to them— that any social consideration 
was accorded. The Kemble period in 
Great Britain had just passed away, and 
the Macready period was just coming in, 
when Mr. Stoddart (now in his seventy- 
fifth year) began his apprenticeship to 
acting. The eccentric Mr. Alexander — 
he who placed his own bust between those 
of Shakspere and Garrick in the front 
of his Glasgow theater, and whose elabo- 
rate tomb, with its theatrical drop-curtain, 
can be seen in the Glasgow necropolis— 
was the principal manager in Scotland, 
and "stars " such as Murray, Farren, and 
Munden were roaming over the land. Mr. 
Stoddart, born at Barnsley, Yorkshire, 
xii 



A PKEFATOBY NOTE 

England, October 13, 182 7, was early 
trained to the theater by his father, a 
good actor and a good man, and up to his 
twenty-seventh year, when he emigrated 
to America, was rigidly schooled in the 
study and practice of his art at many 
places in the British Kingdom, particu- 
larly in the northern towns of Scotland, 
in Yorkshire, and in Liverpool. In 1854 
he crossed the sea, and on September 7 of 
that year he appeared at Wallack's The- 
ater, beginning a career before the Amer- 
ican public that has lasted close on half a 
century and been steadily attended with 
honorable renown. Phases and associa- 
tions of that career are recorded in this 
book, and the reader will find it equally 
an exposition of character and a document 
in theatrical history. 

Theatrical memoirs in general are 
dreary compilations, abounding in dates 
and trivialities, and when they are autobi- 
ographical they are commonly prodigious 
as ebullitions of overweening egotism. 
It is seldom that an old actor, writing 
about the past, records anything of value 
xiii 



A PREFATOBY NOTE 

concerning his contemporaries, or any- 
thing calculated to cast a light upon any 
interesting aspect of the times through 
which he has lived. Cibber's "book "The 
Apology n remains unrivaled for vital 
portraiture of fine and famous persons 
with whom he was associated. The elder 
Bernard's book is excellent for authentic 
chronicles and sprightly anecdote. Jef- 
ferson's book, in our own time, is excep- 
tional for spontaneous manifestation of 
the writer's sympathetic temperament, 
sweet, playful humor, and philosophic 
husbandry of peace and happiness amid 
the vicissitudes of a turbulent age. But 
most of the numerous and frivolous writ- 
ings of actors could well be spared. The 
memoirs that the world needs, for its 
guidance and help, are those of the men 
and women who are genuine, who have 
borne the burden and heat of the day, 
who have helped to strengthen and beau- 
tify the passing life of their generation, 
and who write, not from vanity, but from 
the impulse of kindness and service. Mr. 
Stoddart was not easily persuaded to give 
xiv 



A PKEFATORY NOTE 

these reminiscences, and although wishful 
to heed the request of his children,— that 
he would make for them, as a precious leg- 
acy, some account of his life,— it was not 
till strongly urged by the present writer 
that he consented to undertake this task. 
Such persuasion was warranted, for no 
actor was ever more genuine than Mr. 
Stoddart, and no professional life was 
ever more exemplary than his of the ad- 
mirable virtues of perseverance, self-de- 
nial, sincerity, fidelity, purity, and truth. 
The counsel upon which the veteran 
finally acted was that he should write 
freely, as if in a letter to an old friend, 
whatever of the past he might happen 
to remember j and in so writing he has 
made old days to live again, and voices 
to speak once more that have long been 
silent, and faces to smile upon us that have 
long been cold. 

In deference to Mr. Stoddart's judg- 
ment and in compliance with his desire 
these words are written to introduce his 
book— a book which really requires no 
introduction, and to which no indorse- 
xv 



A PREFATORY NOTE 

ment can impart a greater than its in- 
trinsic value. It is the cursory record of 
a good life, the natural expression of a 
manly and lovable character, and in some 
ways it is an illuminative side-light upon 
an old theatrical period— a time of rare 
interest to those who watch the dramatic 
movement in literature and society, and 
trace the action and reaction of civiliza- 
tion and the stage. It is fortunate that 
the work of writing this record was not 
too long deferred. In two instances— 
that of George Holland and that of John 
Brougham— the present writer earnestly 
and often urged the need and the fair 
occasion of an autobiography, and at 
last both those veterans attempted the 
labor ; but Holland had postponed the 
effort till he was too old to make it, 
producing only a trivial fragment of less 
than a hundred pages ; and Brougham, 
when he began to write, was so ill that 
he could produce only a few chapters 
—a mere beginning to what might have 
been the dramatic chronicle of half a 
century, teeming with brilliant men and 
xvi 



A PREFATORY NOTE 

women and opulent with feeling and 
mirth. Mr. Stoddart's youthful spirit, 
buoyant and genial, serves him now, 
in the evening gray, as readily and as 
amply as it did in the morning gold, 
and his memoir has been written with 
spontaneous earnestness, simple candor, 
and homelike grace. Much of it is in 
outline ; but sometimes, as in a poem by 
Heine or a landscape by Corot, the out- 
line is suggestive of the complete painting ; 
and no part of it is tedious. In his writ- 
ing, as in his acting, it is the sketch that is 
achieved rather than the elaborate fabric 
of complex art. One of this comedian's 
most representative triumphs on the stage 
was gained in Dion Boucicault's play of 
" The Long Strike," as the old lawyer, 
Mr. Moneypenny, a man outwardly crabbed 
but inwardly tender, comic in his garb of 
morose selfishness but winning in his 
abundant humanity ; and whoever saw 
that performance (first given many years 
ago at Laura Keene's Theater) saw the 
" picture in little " of those attributes of 
the actor that have made him great ; for 
xvii 



A PREFATORY NOTE 

greatness in dramatic art, meaning the 
summit of excellence in interpretative ex- 
pression, is simplicity, and of simplicity 
Mr. Stoddart possesses the absolute com- 
mand, touching equally the springs of hu- 
mor and pathos, winning affection as well 
as admiration, and thus fulhlling the best 
purpose of all art, which is to bless hu- 
man life with the gracious memory that 
makes it calm and the noble incentive 
that makes it beautiful. 

Mentone, California, 
August 10, 1902. 



xvm 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
J. H. Stoddart .... Frontispiece 

From a photograph by Jansen, Buffalo. 

FACING PAGE 

Charles Fisher 8 

From a photograph by Sarony. 

J. B. Buckstone 16 

From an engraving. 

Charlotte Cushman 24 

From a photograph by Sarony. 

Charles James Mathews, Jr., as George 

Rattleton 32 

From an engraving by G. Adcock from the 
painting by R. W. Buss. 

James H. Stoddart, Sr. .... 40 

From a photograph. 

Playbill of Royal Amphitheater, Liver- 
pool, Wednesday, September 28, 1853 48 

Playbill of New Adelphi Theater, Isling- 
ton, Wednesday, July 26, 1865 . 56 

Playbill of Theater Royal, Covent Garden, 

Monday, October 24, 1814 ... 64 

James W. Wallack 72 

From a lithograph. 

xix 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 

FACING PAGE 

John Brougham 80 

From a photograph by Saxony. 

Mary Taylor 88 

From a daguerreotype. 

George Holland 92 

From a photograph by Gurney. 

John T. Raymond 96 

From a photograph by Sarony. 

Joseph Jefferson 100 

From a photograph by Houseworth. 

Mrs. J. H. Stoddart in "Rule a Wife and 

Have a Wife" .... 104 

From a photograph. 

Agnes Robertson (Mrs. Boucicault) . . 108 

From a photograph by J. Gurney & Son. 

Edwin Booth 116 

From a photograph by Sarony. 

Frank Chanfrau 124 

From a photograph by Sarony. 

Playbill of Olympic Theater, New York, 

Monday, May 15, 1848 . . .128 

Laura Keene 132 

From a photograph. 

William Mitchell 136 

From an etching. 

Playbill of Olympic Theater, New York, 

Tuesday, January 12, 1864 . . .140 

Mr. Stoddart as Moneypenny . . . 144 

From a photograph by F. W. Bacon. 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 

FACING PAGE 

John Gilbert 148 

From a photograph by Brady. 

Lester Wallack 156 

From a photograph by Falk. 

Mrs. Vernon 164 

From a photograph by J. Gurney & Son. 

Charles R. Thorne, Jr., as Count De Vernay 

in "Rose Michel" . ... 172 

From a photograph by Sarony. 

Henry James Montague .... 176 

From a photograph by Sarony. 

Charles Coghlan 184 

From a photograph by Falk. 

John Parselle 196 

From a photograph by Marc & Schlum. 

Sara Jewett 204 

From a photograph by Sarony. 

Dion Boucicault 216 

From a photograph by Bradley & Rulofson. 

Mrs. John Wood 224 

From a photograph by Sarony. 

Charles L. Harris as Squire Tucker in 

"Alabama" 232 

From a photograph by Thors. 

C. W. Couldock 236 

From a photograph taken December, 1891, by 
J. F. Ryder, Cleveland, Ohio. 

A. M. Palmer 240 

From a photograph by Falk. 



XXI 



THE BE COLLECTIONS 
OP A PLAYEE 



THE RECOLLECTIONS 
OF A PLAYER 



^ 



TT was on the thirteenth day of October, 
1827, in the town of Black Barnsley, 
Yorkshire, England, that I made my first 
appearance on this world's stage. My fa- 
ther, although not theatrically connected, 
having been brought up on a farm, became 
in after-time a well-known and, I think, a 
very fine actor. A Scottish nobleman, 
the Earl of Hopetoun, had an estate some 
distance from Moffat, in the parish of 
Johnstone, Scotland. He numbered among 
his tenant farmers many Stoddarts, and 
my father could lay claim to relationship 
with almost all of them. He, however, 
did not seem to fancy milking cows and 
following the plow, and so he made his 
3 



EECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYEE 

way to Glasgow, where he was apprenticed 
for seven years to learn the carpenter's 
trade. In those days a person was deemed 
fortunate who had learned a good trade. 
My father became a constant frequenter 
of the theater, and in a short time he was 
thoroughly stage-struck. He joined an 
an amateur theatrical association, and, 
after having served his apprenticeship, 
went to England, where he succeeded in 
getting an engagement in a regular the- 
ater. He remained, to the end of his days, 
an actor. 

There were at that time, in England, 
routes known as "theatrical circuits"— 
among them the Huggins and Clark, the 
Fisher, and the Eobertson circuit. Each 
of these consisted 'of about four country 
towns, and three months were spent in 
each. Salaries were small, but the princi- 
pal performers had a benefit in each town ; 
and as actors were employed the year 
round, and played only three nights a 
week, it was far from being an uncomfor- 
table sort of life. On the non-play nights 
the actors would meet their friends— and 
4 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

they had many— at some country tavern, 
and there enjoy themselves in telling sto- 
ries, singing songs, and smoking their long 
clay pipes, the barmaid meanwhile fre- 
quently renewing their mugs of ale. 

It was in the Yorkshire circuit, managed 
by Huggins and Clark, that my father first 
made his professional bow, and it was 
there also that he first met my mother, 
Mary Pierce. Thomas Pierce, her father, 
familiarly known by the diminutive 
" Tommy," had, with his daughter Mary, 
been associated with the Yorkshire cir- 
cuit for many years ; and in the four towns 
annually visited old "Tommy" Pierce 
was as well known as any native inhabi- 
tant. He passed nearly all his life in the 
Yorkshire circuit, amusing a simple lot of 
people, and was much respected. I sup- 
pose one of these circuit companies would 
now be regarded as a lot of barn-stormers ; 
but those actors were happy, contented, 
and respected people, and in the towns 
they visited yearly had hosts of expectant 
friends to meet and welcome them. 

The Fisher circuit was thought to offer 
5 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

a desirable situation, it being managed by 
the parents of my old friend Charles 
Fisher. He and I dressed together for a 
number of years at Wallack's Theater (the 
Thirteenth Street house), and he would 
often speak of those early days when he 
used to play the fiddle in the orchestra of 
his father's company, and, having dressed 
for his part beforehand, would throw a 
cloak over his costume and take his place 
with the band, and then, after the over- 
ture was ended, return to the stage and 
his part. 

While we were at Wallack's his great 
wish was, he said, to return to the place 
of his birth and pass the evening of his 
days where, years before, he had been so 
happy. He did return, and I was told he 
found everything so changed, so unlike 
what he had expected, that he came back 
to America after a short visit, and not 
long afterward he died in New York, 
June 11, 1891. Mr. Joseph Jefferson, Mr. 
Charles W. Couldock, and I saw him laid 
to rest. I had ample opportunity of know- 
ing Fisher intimately, and I regarded it 
6 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

as a great privilege to be so closely associ- 
ated with, one so talented, so modest, and 
so good. Every one loved Charles Fisher. 

The Robertson circuit was thought to be 
of more importance than the others men- 
tioned. It certainly produced actors of 
great distinction in Mr. Tom Robertson 
the dramatist and his talented sister Miss 
Madge Robertson, now Mrs. Kendal. 

My father, having married Miss Mary 
Pierce, thought it prudent to seek his for- 
tune in some wider field than the York- 
shire circuit, and he succeeded in procur- 
ing an engagement for himself and wife in 
Manchester. They also played in Liver- 
pool, Newcastle, Dublin, and Belfast, and 
in most of the smaller towns of England. 
Time brought them a large family, seven 
boys and three girls. The girls and two 
boys died in infancy, leaving George, 
James, Robert, Richard, and Benjamin, all 
of whom attained to manhood and adopted 
the stage as a profession, each in his time 
playing many parts. For years we wan- 
dered through the small English towns, 
encountering the ups and downs of theatri- 
7 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

cal life, and being far oftener down than 
up. Alas ! all now are dead, leaving the 
writer, at seventy -four, only the remem- 
brance of loving brothers and of affection- 
ate parents, who, amid all their struggles 
and hardships, ever tried to secure the 
comfort and happiness of their boys— 
parents who on many occasions deprived 
themselves of common necessaries in order 
that their lads might have all the more. 

I often think of the days when we were 
all "wee chaps" tramping through Eng- 
land and Scotland, scantily clothed, pos- 
sessed of huge appetites, many times lack- 
ing the means to appease them ; and yet 
those days stand out as among the happi- 
est of my life. What, indeed, would I not 
give to recall them? 

Mr. John Henry Alexander, or "old 
Alec," as the boys in Glasgow were wont 
to call him, was the most eccentric char- 
acter known to the theatrical profession. 
No one who had not seen them would 
believe the extraordinary things that oc- 
curred under his management. The ap- 
pearance of the man was comic. His nose 
8 




Charles Fisher. 



EECOLLECTIOlSrS OF A PLAYEK 

and chin nearly met. His voice, once 
heard, could never be forgotten, or mis- 
taken for that of any other person. If he 
appeared in the street he was "the ob- 
served of all observers." He was a capital 
actor of Scotch parts, and very funny in 
all that he did. His style being so marked, 
so peculiarly his own, there was never 
any mistaking the man. Alec began his 
theatrical career in the most humble way. 
He had, however, wonderful perseverance 
and energy. His first performances in 
Glasgow were given in a loft. Although 
he was laughed at and quizzed, nothing 
could daunt him. He held his own, and 
became not only the manager but the 
proprietor of the most gorgeous theater 
outside of London. It was somewhat flam- 
boyant in decoration, but, in its way, an 
ornament to Dunlop Street, where it was 
situated. Few visitors to Glasgow would 
leave the city without taking a peep at 
Alec and his theater. There he played all 
sorts of parts, including tragedy, comedy, 
burlesque, and farce, and he even sang 
comic songs and danced sailors' hornpipes 
9 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

between the pieces. No one would believe 
that a man conld make himself so ridicu- 
lous who had not actually seen Alexander. 
He used to play William in " Black-eyed 
Susan/ 7 and he always danced a hornpipe 
—the boys in the gallery crying the while, 
"Go it, Alec !" and whistling "Jack 's the 
Lad/' or bawling, "Gie us Alec's step !" 
Every one knew Alec's step and always 
vociferously applauded it, compelling him 
to repeat the dance several times. He had 
no idea of dancing, but, as he passed the 
leader of the orchestra, he would shout to 
him, "Quicker, quicker ! for I 'm around 
the stage like lightning ! " the members of 
the band being scarcely able to control 
their laughter. The exterior of his thea- 
ter was handsome. Three statues, well 
executed, as large as life, were placed in 
front, at an elevation. Shakspere was in 
the center, Garrick on one side, and Alex- 
ander himself on the other. In pointing 
to them Alec would say : "There, sir, is 
Shakspere ; there is Garrick ; and there is 
John Henry Alexander — as great a man in 
his way as any of them." 
10 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

My father and Alexander had been boys 
together, and, as fellow-apprentices, had 
"served their time " in Glasgow, and were 
close companions. They had also entered 
the theatrical profession in the same year. 
Alexander prospered ; my father did not. 
We were getting on so badly in England, 
and our prospects were so dark, that a let- 
ter was at last sent to Scotland, applying 
to Alexander for an engagement. His 
reply was awaited with anxiety, as my 
father had made us understand that Alex- 
ander and himself had been comrades, 
having even stood together at the theater 
doors, begging pass-out checks, in order 
to get a glimpse of the much-desired play. 
Later they had belonged to the same ama- 
teur club. My father was sure, therefore, 
that his old friend would be glad to engage 
both my mother and himself. My mother 
felt that, as Alexander was a great man 
now, he might have forgotten his boy 
friend, and therefore she was not so san- 
guine. Poor mother generally looked on 
the dark side of things, while my father 
was extravagantly optimistic. 
11 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYEB 

One day my brother George came run- 
ning into the house with a letter, shouting, 
"It is from Glasgow, from Alexander." 
And so it proved to be. It was a friendly 
letter saying that the writer would be glad 
to receive my father, but could not, at 
present, avail himself of my mother's ser- 
vices. "Never mind, Mary," said my 
father ; "my salary will keep the pot boil- 
ing, and you will be fully employed at- 
tending to the youngsters." 

We hurriedly packed and made arrange- 
ments for immediate flight. A bargain 
was struck with the carrier, who provided 
a common means of conveyance in those 
days, often used by persons not over well- 
to-do. The carrier's wagon had a large 
canvas cover to protect passengers from 
bad weather, and also plenty of straw in- 
side to keep all dry and warm. We laid 
in a basket of provisions, and, bundling in, 
we started. The carrier's wagon was not 
to be despised, if a traveler could not 
afford to take passage in the mail-coach. 
It seemed to me that the journey occupied 
almost a week. We arrived in Glasgow 
12 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

in due course, and sought Alexander, who 
seemed very glad to see us. My father's 
salary was fixed at two pounds per week, 
not a large sum for the needs of so large a 
family, but when my father mentioned the 
amount we all thought it a fortune. Alex- 
ander had again expressed his regret that 
he had nothing to offer my mother, but, 
remembering "auld lang syne," and wish- 
ing to help father, he proposed to en- 
gage the young masters Stoddart, whom, 
he said, he would use as frequently as the 
plays would permit, for children's parts, 
pages, etc. So it was arranged that, irre- 
spective of age, we should each receive one 
shilling a performance when we acted 
speaking parts, and sixpence when we ap- 
peared in silent ones. 

The varied and extensive repertory of 
my brothers and myself under this shil- 
ling and six-penny arrangement would 
scarcely be credited. When we entered 
on our career with Alexander our tender 
years confined us to children's parts, but, 
with advance of time, we were put on in 
the tragedies as pages, in the nautical. 
13 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

pieces as young sailors, and in the melo- 
dramas my brother George and I, when we 
had reached the age of ten and eight re- 
spectively, were to be seen as bloodthirsty 
young ruffians, wearing our own light hair, 
but with villainous black beards,— done in 
cork, frequently by Mr. Alexander himself, 
—fighting fierce combats at the rear of the 
stage. Alexander would say, " There, that 
will do ; now go along. There are young 
ruffians, you know, as well as old ruffians." 
We got to be known as well as Alexander 
himself by the patrons of the theater, and 
the newspapers would often refer to us as 
"Alec's two young heroes." 

I cannot remember the first appearance 
of my brother George, but I vividly recol- 
lect my own. I was five years old, and 
was taken on to represent the child of 
Martin Haywood in Douglas Jerrold's drama 
of "The Eent Day." In the last scene, 
where Crumbs, played by my father, seizes 
Martin's goods and chattels, and is about to 
turn him out of doors, I became fearfully 
excited ; and when Martin, my stage father, 
began berating Crumbs, the real author of 
14 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

my being, I could stand it no longer. I 
ran from Martin, and clung wildly to old 
Crumbs. I had been announced as "Mas- 
ter Stoddart, five years old ; his first ap- 
pearance on any stage/' so that my iden- 
tity and my relationship to Crumbs were 
known to the public. The audience yelled 
with delight, and the conclusion of the act 
was, of course, completely upset. My 
debut, therefore, proved highly injurious 
to my prospects, for, for some time after- 
ward, when other children were required, 
Alexander would say to my father : "Stod- 
dart, don't bring the 'Rent Day 7 boy." 

I made a second appearance later, in 
"Macbeth." I was cast for one of the ap- 
paritions. Macready was playing the 
great Thane. I had to say : 

Macbeth, Macbeth, Macbeth, beware Macduff ! 
Beware the Thane of Fife ! dismiss me: enough ! 

I was nervous, but having upset things 
in "The Rent Day" on my first appear- 
ance, I thought it absolutely necessary for 
my future well-being that, this time, I 
should convince Mr. Alexander of my sta- 
15 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

bility. I stood at the wings watching 
Macready. He was so particular that 
everybody dreaded him. No one dared 
to move or make the slightest noise behind 
the scenes. I remember that yonng Mr. 
Cathcart on one occasion, having to deliver 
a message to him, extended his right hand 
in doing it ; whereupon Mr. Macready im- 
mediately took him to task, saying : "No, 
no, sir ; don't do that. No action, sir, no 
action. Keep your hands down by your 
sides, and look me in the eye ; but no 
action." 

This strict discipline had a tendency to 
confuse me, and I wished my part of the 
rehearsal over. I made my way under 
the stage and found the step-ladder by 
which I was to reach the caldron. The 
witches were stirring something in it with 
their sticks. I kept repeating my lines, 
fearful that I should forget them. At last 
my time came to appear. I popped my 
head through the caldron and heard my 
cue. One of the witches says : 

He knows thy thought : 
Hear his speech, but say thou naught. 
16 




J. B. Buckstone. 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

I was trembling like a leaf, but I began : 
"Muckbeth, Muckbeth." Mr. Macready 
instantly interrupted me : "Oh, no, no, 
young man -, not Muck, not Muck. Go on, 
sir ; try again." I said once more, "Muck- 
beth." "Oh, no, no ! Mack, Mack, Mack ! 

D it, can't you say Macbeth. ? " At this 

moment Mr. Alexander kindly came to my 
rescue. " I think, Mr. Macready," he said, 
"you will find the boy all right at night. 
Besides," he added, "'Macbeth' is a Scotch 
piece, and a little of the Scotch dialect 
may not be altogether out of place." 
Alexander had a very broad accent him- 
self. I was at last allowed to proceed in 
my own way, but I do not remember 
whether I finally said "Muck " or "Mack." 
Nearly all the important star actors of 
the time came down from London and 
played engagements with Alexander. 
Among them were Helen Faucit, Charles 
Mathews, Mme. Yestris, Tyrone Power, 
the great Irish comedian, Mr. and Mrs. 
Charles Kean, Benjamin Webster, Mme. 
Celeste, J. B. Buckstone, Mrs. Fitzwilliam, 
Edwin Forrest, and Charlotte Cushman. 
2 17 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

Miss Glyn, who was associated with Mr. 
Phelps at Sadlers Wells, London, was a 
favorite in Edinburgh and Glasgow. She 
was Scotch, and had a broad Scotch accent, 
and she was abnormally tall. My brother 
George played with her in Liverpool, and 
on one occasion had an important scene to 
act with her. She towered above him. 
When she saw him at rehearsal she ad- 
dressed him thus : "Dear, dear yonng man, 
you 're verra short ; could ye no stand on 
your taes ? " 

Charlotte Cushman began in "Guy 
Mannering." Although it was not a 
novelty in Glasgow, but a stock piece, 
played season after season, when her Meg 
Merrilies was once made known to the 
Glasgow theater-going public, not only 
were the houses packed, but Dunlop Street 
was thronged with people anxious to wit- 
ness her performance, and her Meg Mer- 
rilies became the talk of the town. I had 
the honor of playing the Gypsy Boy with 
her, and as long as I live I shall remember 
her first entrance, and her death at the 
end of the piece. After being shot she 
18 



KECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYEE 

exclaims, while looking in Henry Bethune's 
face, "Shout, men. Shout, and acknow- 
ledge him heir of Ellangowan ! " With 
the first shout she raised herself partly up j 
with the second to her sfull height ; and 
with the third shout she fell all of a heap 
on the stage, looking more like a bundle 
of old rags than a human being. I cer- 
tainly think it was the most effectively 
dramatic piece of business I have ever seen. 
On another occasion she played Bosalind 
in "As You Like It," and Mr. Alexan- 
der's company never being over-numerous, 
I was cast for the part of Jacques Dubois. 
The night before its production I was a 
little doubtful as to whether I could com- 
mit it to memory ; but as it meant a shil- 
ling instead of sixpence, I undertook it, 
walking the floor half the night trying to 
memorize my lines. The part consists of 
only one speech, but that is a long and 
most important one occurring at the end 
of the play. In the morning I could re- 
peat it— at rehearsal it had left me. The 
property-man of the theater said he had 
played the part, so, much to my mental 
19 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

relief and my pecuniary loss, I was told 
that J would not be needed. The property- 
man went on that night, but the next 
morning Miss Cushman sent for me and 
said, "That man got through with the 
speech last night, hut spoke it in such a 
villainous manner that I don't want a 
repetition of him, if I can avoid it; I 
know blank verse needs to dwell some time 
in the memory. Let me hear if you now 
remember the lines." I repeated the 
speech without a mistake, and Miss Cush- 
man in consequence gave directions that 
the property-man should doff his garment 
and that I should don it. I was told after- 
ward that I spoke the much-dreaded 
speech well. Even the gentleman whom 
I had supplanted assured me I was "all 
right," and related to me the trouble he 
had to get hold of the words. "The first 
time I did it," said he, "I kept on repeat- 
ing the words, <I am the second son of old 
Sir Roland/ for I could n't for the life of 
me think of the rest of my speech, and at 
last, being completely dumfounded, I ex- 
20 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

claimed, 'Oh, why the devil did Sir Ro- 
land ever have a second son ! ? And I 
think the audience heard it." 

Mr. Alexander, at this time a man over 
fifty years of age, played all sorts of parts, 
but he was essentially a low comedian. 
His personality was never left in doubt, 
and if he had a line or two to speak be- 
fore making his entrance, they would say 
in front : "Here comes old Alec." Miss 
Jean Davenport, afterward Mrs. General 
Lander, who played many star engage- 
ments in Glasgow, on one occasion acted 
Juliet to the Borneo of Alexander. This 
proved too much for the Glasgow people 
to endure. Hand-bills were distributed 
throughout the city, which read : "Murder 
at the Theater Royal ! Alexander as 
Romeo." The populace came armed with 
clubs, sticks, etc., and seldom, I suppose, 
was a scene like it ever witnessed in a 
theater. When Borneo made his first ap- 
pearance the spectators hooted, yelled, and 
shouted, "Go home, Alec!" My father 
played Friar Laurence. When he said, 
21 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

"Come forth, thou desperate man " (refer- 
ring to Borneo) , there was a roar. After 
Borneo 1 s speech, 

Fall upon the ground as I do now, 
Taking the measure of an unmade grave, 

Alexander fell in such a comic manner 
that the audience was convulsed. They 
whistled, pounded the floor with their 
sticks, and cat- called until Borneo could 
stand it no longer. He rose up from his 
prone position, came down to the foot- 
lights, and spoke as follows : "Ladies and 
gentlemen." [A voice from the gallery : 
"Oh, go home, Alec."] "I ? 11 give five 
pounds," said Alexander, "if some one 
will point out that blackguard in the gal- 
lery." [Another voice : "It was me, 
Alec."] "Hold your tongue," roared Alex- 
ander, "and don't incriminate yourself. 
Ladies and gentlemen, I have built you a 
beautiful theater." [Yells.] "I know I 
am not so young as I was." ["No, no," 
and roars of laughter.] "But, thank God, 
I can play the part." At this there was a 
general row, and Alexander went back 
22 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

to his position, again stretching himself 
upon the stage. The disturbance con- 
tinued throughout the evening. . 

I played Borneo's page, and had to follow 
him on in the last scene, when he visits 
the tomb of the Capulets. When Alex- 
ander appeared in his black costume it was 
the signal for another outburst of merri- 
ment, and when I made my entrance, with 
a crowbar and a lighted torch, they howled. 
They were more respectful while Juliet 
was on the stage, but during Borneo' ] s death 
scene the climax of derisive joy was 
reached. 

When my father and I were leaving the 
theater after the performance, we saw a 
crowd in front of the building, with Alex- 
ander in their center, sword in hand, en- 
deavoring, as he said, to protect his prop- 
erty from injury at the hands of a lot of 
"blackguard ruffians." We hurried home. 
Next morning it was discovered that during 
the uproar some one had managed to find 
his way to the roof of the theater and had 
given one side of the face of Alexander's 
statue a liberal coat of whitewash. A re- 
23 



EECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYEE 

ward of five pounds was offered for the ap 
prehension of the culprit, but he was nevei 
discovered. 

As I grew older I began to think that 
some other occupation would be more 
congenial to me. After the Glasgow sea- 
son a company was formed to try their 
luck in Greenock, a sort of sharing scheme, 
of which my father became the manager. 
After the running expenses were deducted, 
the remainder was divided according to 
the relative positions held by the actors, 
the principals, of course, receiving a larger 
share than the minor members. 

In those days Greenock was a great 
shipping-port. All the heavier vessels lay 
there, as the Clyde was not sufficiently deep 
to allow them to go up to Glasgow. I 
used to watch the ships come in and out, 
and, seeing the sailors spend their money 
freely ashore, I thought that seafaring 
would be an ideal life, and resolved to 
adopt it. I had not a good appearance 
for the character. I was thin and very 
pale. My parents thought I was quite 
unsuited for such a life, and naturally 
24 




Charlotte Cusliman. 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

they objected ; but I became infatuated 
with the idea. I had a sympathizing land- 
lady, who looked upon the theater as a 
pit of iniquity, and in order, as she said, to 
redeem me, did her utmost to try to ob- 
tain for me my heart's desire, to ship on 
board some vessel. She wandered with me 
from shipping- office to shipping- office, and 
took me on board all sorts of craft, inter- 
viewing captains and mates, but all to no 
purpose $ and despite her explanation that 
I was the son of a "play-actor," and that 
she was trying to get me out of "sic a dis- 
reputable calling," she could not succeed 
in gaining for me the opportunity to be- 
come a "jolly Jack Tar." Her last appli- 
cation settled the business, and she vowed 
she would have nothing more to do with 
it. After much exertion, climbing over 
two vessels to reach a third that lay along- 
side, we succeeded in obtaining an inter- 
view with the captain. She began with 
him as she had done with the others. 
"Here," said she, "is a poor laddie who is 
the son of a play-actor, and he very prop- 
erly objects to following his father's wicked 
25 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

and disreputable trade, and he wants to be 
a sailor. Do you think you could give 
him a job?" 

The captain looked at my landlady and 
then at me. "Are you his mither?" 
"No," she said j "no exactly his niither— 
just a friend." 

"Woman/' said the captain, "you ought 
to be ashamed of yourself to try and send 
a boy like that to sea. He 'd be dead be- 
fore we got through half the voyage. Take 
him home and make a tailor of him. Get 
ashore, get ashore." My landlady beat a 
hasty retreat, saying as she went : "You 
must just be a play-actor all your days. 
I 'ra no going to fash ma head wi' ye ony 
more." And she did n't. 

I was still bent on going to sea. It so 
happened that my father appointed me to 
take checks at the gallery door of the 
theater, and in that capacity I met many 
sailors, and I became intimate with one, to 
whom I related all my troubles— my great 
wish to become a sailor, and my difficulty 
in getting shipped. He told me he was 
an apprentice on board of a vessel about 
26 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

to start on a trading voyage to the West 
Indies, not to return to Greenock for three 
years. He said that if I liked to stow 
away, he would do all he could for me 
until I became used to the sea. I thanked 
him and j uniped at the chance. He prom- 
ised to let me know the night before the 
ship sailed, and to smuggle me on board. 
The next night he came to the theater and 
told me they were to haul out very early 
the next morning., I had my bundle of 
clothes with me, and after the play I went 
to the ship with my friend. I had told 
my brother Bob what I purposed doing, 
and he had promised to break the news to 
father and mother. Upon reaching the 
ship we found a watchman on board, who 
at first objected to my going into the hold 
and concealing myself j but after much 
persuasion I was permitted to descend. 

It was midwinter and bitterly cold ; but 
I crawled among a lot of casks and other 
junk, and, almost frozen, I fell asleep. I 
do not know how long I slept, but when I 
awoke the ship was moving, and the mo- 
tion made me so sick I thought I should 
27 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

liave died. I had lost my hat and also my 
bundle. I heard them on deck talking of 
letting go the tug. My feelings had under- 
gone a complete revolution, and I was far 
more anxious to get ashore than ever I had 
been to come on board. I succeeded in 
reaching the deck just as the tug was 
about to leave the ship. The captain, 
espying me as I was about to jump on 
board the tug, gave me a kick, shouting, 
"A stowaway ! n I saw the ship with bent 
sails going rapidly down the Clyde, and I 
was glad to find our craft returning to 
port. 

The tug, however, instead of going all 
the way back to Greenock, put in at a 
small port about twelve miles from there. 
I had to walk this distance to Greenock, as 
I had lost my clothes and hat in the hold 
of the ship, and I had no money. I had 
eaten nothing since about six o'clock the 
evening before $ and, to make matters 
worse, my brother Bob, who was to break 
the news of my departure at home, had 
told my father a fine story of having seen 
me on a beautiful ship, with other sailors, 
28 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYEB 

in a handsome suit of sailor- clothes, look- 
ing happy, and that the captain had patted 
me on the hack and said : " Ah, ye '11 make 
a braw wee sailorman." On the top of 
this information I arrived at home, minus 
my hat and my clothes, and looking a per- 
fect wreck. They were all, however, glad 
to see me. My mother began to cry, and 
my father remarked that I was far better 
fitted for a stage sailor than for the real 
article. I believed him, and have never 
since thought of the sea. 

We returned to Glasgow and rejoined 
Mr. Alexander, passing another season in 
the same old way. Alexander's wife had 
a wretched life on account of his peculiari- 
ties. She was never out of the theater. 
She was the wardrobe-keeper, attended to 
the supers, prompted her husband, who 
always needed it, and tried to be the 
peacemaker in all disputes, of which 
there were many. Alexander often, in 
the heat of temper, discharged a mem- 
ber of his company who could hardly be 
spared, and it was then that he would send 
for his wife and urge her to help him out 
29 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

of his difficulties. "Woman/' he would 
say, "I can't part with that man. If he 
goes, I '11 murder you ! " Then, poor soul, 
she would go to the one discharged and 
persuade him to stay. "Oh, you munna 
think about leaving," she would say. 
"Mr. Alexander disna mean half he says. 
Just see how he abuses meP Everybody 
liked Mrs. Alexander, and frequently 
would remain with the company on her 
account. 

I recall a unique incident in a perform- 
ance of "Rob Roy." My brother George 
and I were playing Rob 1 8 sons, Robert and 
Hamish. There is a scene in which Mcol 
Jarvie and Francis Osbaldistone are taken 
prisoners and marched between a file of 
Highland soldiers to what is called the 
"Tramp Chorus." Mrs. Alexander had 
made up the supers hurriedly, and there 
was one of the Highlanders, a very tall 
person, whom the audience singled out 
from the rest as a butt for its laughter. 
Mr. Alexander, who was the Mcol Jarvie, 
seeing him endeavor to diminish his 
height by marching around almost in a 
30 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

sitting posture, admonished him, in a voice 
that could be heard above the martial 
music, to "Stand up, sir ! " The High- 
lander did not rise ; at which Alexander 
repeated the command in a louder voice : 
" Stand up, sir ! " This time the High- 
lander explained : "I canna, Alec, I 
canna ; ma kilt 7 s ower short." 

On the same occasion Mr. Charles Love- 
day, who was so long in America, was the 
Captain Thornton of the cast. He had a 
cold, and he coughed frequently while 
speaking ; whereupon Alexander unsym- 
pathetically drew attention to his illness 
by saying in an audible aside : "Lord pre- 
serve us and deliver us frae this asthmati- 
cal army." 

Alexander was always careful not to 
offend my father, who had been with him 
so long, had such a "good study," and was 
so well up in all the current plays that he 
was a most valuable member of the com- 
pany. There were no type -written parts 
in those days. An actor had to write out 
his own part, and was allowed only a cer- 
tain time in which to do it, having then 
31 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

to pass the manuscript or play -book on to 
some other member. Many and many a 
night, after the performance, when my 
brothers and I were all in bed, father and 
mother would be at work on new parts 
for hours, she reading and he writing. 
Often poor mother, tired out, would nod 
over her task and lose her place, saying, 
"Oh, dear ! I have given you the wrong 
speech." And father would irritably reply, 
" Confound it ! Give me the book and I '11 
read it myself." But in the same moment 
he would rise, kiss her, and insist upon 
her going to bed, finishing the task by 
himself. Poor mother ! God bless her 
memory ! One of the most patient and 
tender-hearted creatures that ever lived— 
trying to clothe and provide for her chil- 
dren on so slender an income, and fighting 
a malady, cancer, that eventually ended 
her life, and yet so good, so cheerful, al- 
ways making light of her pain. 

My father, night after night, would 

walk up and down the room, studying long 

parts for the next night's performance, 

and sometimes daylight would appear be- 

32 




Charles James Mathews, Jr., 
as George Battleton. 



KECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYEK 

fore he could retire. Again, he would be 
in the theater until three or four o'clock 
in the afternoon rehearsing, and then 
home to repeat the same sort of labor. 
The work was fearful, and I have since 
wondered how he ever got through it. 

Charles Mathews and Mme. Yestris 
played an engagement with Alexander 
one season, and years after Mr. Mathews 
recalled to me, when we were together at 
Wallack's, an incident of it. "I shall 
never forget," said he, "your father, and 
the terrific work he got through with 
Alexander in Glasgow. Yestris and I 
were playing an engagement there, and 
your father was in all the plays. The 
entertainment on one occasion consisted 
of 'The Windmill/ 'The Loan of a Lover,' 
and 'The Captain of the Watch.' Your 
father had struggled through the first two 
at rehearsal. When we came to the last 
play, 'The Captain of the Watch,' he 
seemed a little befogged. I said to him : 
'Stoddart, do you know this piece, "The 
Captain of the Watch " V 'No, sir,' said 
he, 'I do not.' 'Well,' I explained, 'this 
3 33 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYEE 

old baron that you play is a— well, he is a 
sort of mysterious old fellow, you know. 7 
I shall never forget your father's expres- 
sion. He looked at all the parts in his 
pocket, and then at me, and he said in his 
droll way : ' Mr. Mathews, you will find 
the baron d— d mysterious at night.' " 

The American tragedian Edwin Forrest 
followed Mathews at the Theater Eoyal, 
and played a very indifferent engagement. 
He and Alexander were at war all the time. 
As the business was bad, old Alec cut 
down the supers to about one half the 
number Forrest required. Upon Forrest 
objecting, Alexander justified himself by 
calling attention to the fact that Macready 
and other great stars had played at his 
theater with no greater auxiliary assistance 
than was offered to Forrest. " You are an 
ass," said Forrest. "A what?" said Alec. 
"An ass, an ass ! " repeated Forrest. "Sir," 
replied Alec, "I have built this beautiful 
temple of the drama ; I am its sole pro- 
prietor. You, Mr. Forrest, are simply a 
guest ; and, judging from your behavior, a 
very disagreeable one you are." "Tour 
34 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

guest ! " ejaculated Mr. Forrest. " A rat 
would n't be your guest." I suppose both 
were glad when the engagement ended. 

This was about the time when there was 
so much discussion as to the respective 
abilities of Forrest and Macready. For- 
rest attributed his comparative failure in 
England and Scotland to the alleged hos- 
tility of Macready, and likewise to his na- 
tionality. The latter was certainly an 
erroneous plea, for when Miss Charlotte 
Cushman appeared there her success was 
as overwhelming as his was indifferent, 
and this, too, although she was an Ameri- 
can of the most pronounced type. 

At the end of Alexander's season my 
father again formed a company and visited 
some of the small towns of Scotland. The 
inhabitants of some of those places were 
not exactly thirsting for dramatic enter- 
tainment, and in some of the small towns 
they knew very little of the legitimate 
drama. Every school-boy, however, could 
speak "My name is Norval," etc., so we 
thought Home's tragedy of "Douglas," in 
such places, might prove attractive. It 
35 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER, 

was in one of those towns that a most ludi- 
crous incident occurred. We had at the 
time no posters or other means of adver- 
tising, save through the town crier, who 
was sent around the village in the after- 
noon announcing the performance of the 
evening. Ting-a-ling, ting-a-ling! Ringing 
his bell, he cried : "Grand performance ! 
Town hall to-night ! Great play of ' Doug- 
las' ! Leave early, or ye '11 no get a 
seat ! " In spite of this effective and 
earnest exhortation, the inhabitants did 
not avail themselves of the chance to 
enjoy the classic drama, and but Jive 
persons in all presented themselves for 
admission to the theater that evening. 
This noble band sat huddled together in 
the front row. Father said that we should 
give the performance at all events. "Per- 
haps," he remarked hopefully, "as we 
progress, others may drop in." But they 
did n't, which, I think, rather incensed 
my father ; for in one part of the play 
where he, as the hero, has an impassioned 
speech, he delivered it as though to a 
house crowded with enthusiastic admirers : 
36 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

" Demons of death ! Come, settle on my 
sword." Upon hearing this invocation, 
one of the auditors, becoming alarmed, 
made for the door. Nothing daunted, 
father proceeded with great energy : " And 
to a double slaughter guide it home ! " 
At this the second auditor followed the 
first. Father, now thoroughly aroused, 
drew his sword, shouting : "The husband 
and the lover both must die ! " The re- 
maining three were now really trembling 
with fright, and precipitately followed 
their companions ; but as they reached 
the door of the hall, father, seeing all was 
over, quietly sheathed his sword and 
wished them a polite "Good evening, gen- 
tlemen," and so the performance ended. 

The Rev. John Home, the author of 
this same tragedy, was deposed from the 
ministry for writing it, so great, in those 
days, was the prejudice in Scotland against 
the stage. 

My father used to relate an anecdote of 

a provincial tragedian who, while touring 

the country, for economy's sake pressed 

into service a certain stage-struck individ- 

37 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

ual for the part of Catesby in "Richard 
III." At rehearsal, the star, who was 
very eccentric and irascible, frightened 
this young man almost ont of his wits by 
his method of coaching him. "Come on, 
sir, as though you lacked breath, and don't 
hesitate. Shout out at the top of your 
voice your lines, 'My lord, the Duke of 
Buckingham is taken ! ' Then, sir, I make 
a rush at you and exclaim, { Off with his 
head ! Aha ! So much for Buckingham ! ' 
This is my strongest point in the whole 
tragedy." Catesby pondered all day upon 
his instructions, and worked himself into 
such a state of nervous excitement ere the 
performance began in which he was to 
make his famous speech that he antici- 
pated his cue by several minutes, and 
rushed on breathlessly, as he was bidden, 
and shouted lustily : "My lord, the 
Duke—" "Get off!" cried Eichard. 
"You 're too soon ! " The unfortunate 
young man made a precipitate exit, only 
to appear again before his cue was given. 
"My lord, the Duke of Buckingham is 
taken ! " Eichard was now furious at the 
38 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

spoiling of his scene, and almost threw the 
aspirant for histrionic honors from the 
stage, muttering at the wings : "Will some 
one send this idiot on at the proper time ? " 
When the cue was finally given, the unfor- 
tunate young man was pushed on by a stage- 
hand, with an audible "That 's you— 
that 's you." The poor fellow by this 
time had completely lost his head, and 
roared forth : "My lord, we have him now 
sure!" Needless to say, this was the 
young gentleman's first and last appear- 
ance upon the boards. 

Father also told another good story in 
connection with this same play. It seems 
that upon one occasion the great George 
Frederick Cooke was appearing as Richard, 
and the young man cast for Ratcliff was 
very nervous. The tent scene, in the fifth 
act, gave Cooke, as Richard, his great 
speech. This is at the point where he is 
supposed to see the ghosts of his victims, 
and he always became tremendously 
wrought up over it. As Ratcliff enters at 
the end of the speech, Richard starts and 
shouts : "Who >s there ! » Ratcliff should 
39 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

answer, "Rat cliff, my lord 5 't is I— the 
early village cock hath twice done saluta- 
tion to the morn. Your friends are up 
and buckle on their armor." Cooke's de- 
livery of the words "Who 's there?" was 
of such tremendous force that the poor 
young man was completely unnerved, and 
could only stammer out : "'T is I, my lord, 
the early village cock—" and could say no 
more. Again making an effort : "'T is I, 
my lord, the early village cock — " and then 
stood helpless and aghast. Regarding for 
a moment the helpless and hapless Rat-cliff , 
Cooke blurted forth : "Then why the devil 
don't you crow ? " 

As we were not far from my father's 
place of birth, near Moffat, in the parish 
of Johnstone, he surprised us one day by 
saying that he meant to take us all to Hart- 
field Farm to see his relations. So away we 
started, walking the journey, my father, 
mother, and five boys. Father told us that 
the distance was nothing to speak of, but as 
we were tramping all day, it occurred to us 
that we had had quite enough of it. We 
reached our destination late in the after- 
40 




James H. Stoddart, Sr. 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

noon. On the way my father pointed out 
the beauties of the country ; and it was 
beautiful, with its hills and dales, woods 
and rivers. The estate itself was mag- 
nificent. We saw the school-house, a long 
distance from Hartfield Farm, where, my 
father told us, he used to trudge every 
day. To reach it he had to cross a small 
but rather deep river, and he told us he 
used to keep a pair of stilts concealed 
among the brushwood to enable him to 
ford this stream. He gave us a descrip- 
tion of his young days, of the schoolmas- 
ter, and of his companions ; how he used 
to hunt and fish $ and how the young 
chaps, courting the girls who lived on the 
farms many miles away, would start, after 
a hard day in the fields, to spend a "wee 
bit time " with the lassies they liked, "no 
caring at a' if they but reached home in 
time for work next morning." We saw, as 
we walked along, the deer bounding across 
the road, almost in front of us, and the 
trout jumping in the brook where father 
used to fish, and we thought how much 
happier he would have been had he re- 
41 



EECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYEE 

mained at HartfieldFarm rather than with 
John Henry Alexander at the Theater 
Eoyal in Glasgow, although we might not 
have arrived to express our sentiments. 

As I have intimated, all the Stoddarts 
in that part of Scotland were in some way 
related to one another, and although many 
of his relatives were dead, there were still 
a number in being. Father remarked 
that the different places looked familiar, 
so he found his way without difficulty, 
passing a number of cottages and small 
farms, the inhabitants of which came to 
the doors and had a good look at us. Of 
course it was an unusual sight : father in 
front, mother a little way behind, and five 
boys, in single file, bringing up the rear. 

When we reached our destination, my 
father had some difficulty in making his 
relatives understand who he was, and this 
rather disconcerted us ; but after consid- 
erable explanation they remembered him, 
although they kept looking at my mother 
and her boys in bewilderment. It soon 
became known that "Jeemes" Stoddart 
had come back, and that he had a wife 
42 



BECOLLECTIOSTS OF A PLAYEE 

and five " wee laddies, a' just like steps and 
stairs, ye ken." The house was soon full 
of father's old companions. We had plenty 
to eat and drink. They and my father 
had long talks of auld lang syne, of those 
who were still alive and of those who 
had gone. These good people knew no- 
thing of theatrical matters. In fact, one 
old lady asked if father was a tumbler, and 
if he could "stan' on his heed. An'," says 
she, "ye surely dinna mean to bring up 
these wee chaps to sic an occupation." I 
have heard my father, in Glasgow, fre- 
quently, in the course of a heated argu- 
ment, uphold the dignity of the theatrical 
profession ; but in the presence of this old 
woman he was mute. 

As it grew late and near bedtime, there 
was discussion as to how we all were to 
be accommodated. It ended in my father 
and mother remaining where they were, 
while my brothers and I were distributed 
in the neighborhood. We remained some 
time, staying first with one family, then 
with another. As there were many of us, 
however, father felt that it would be un- 
43 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

generous to remain too long, since we cer- 
tainly were putting our friends to incon- 
venience ; but when the time of our 
departure came, there seemed to be true 
and honest regret, and although our ac- 
quaintance had been brief, when my father 
and mother, with their brood, marched 
down the road, there were tears and "wee 
bit sobs" at their departure. The good 
woman who had first received us was the 
last to bid us good-by, with a "God bless 
you, Jeemes, you, your wife, and your 
bairns." And so we left Hartfield and 
father's poor, simple, but kind, honest 
relatives. It was our first and only visit. 
How many of them are still alive I know 
not. Alas ! I am the only survivor of the 
family that visited them ! From there 
we walked to Dumfries, quite a journey, 
though not a great distance from Moffat ; 
and, as the time for the opening of the 
Theater Royal was drawing near, we made 
our way by easy stages to Glasgow. 

My brother George, who was nearly two 
years my senior, determined to strike out 
on his own account, and succeeded in 
44 



KECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYEK 

obtaining a situation at the Coventry 
Theater, managed by Mr. Bennett, to play 
the first walking gentleman. In those 
days the actor had to begin at the bottom 
of the ladder, passing successively from 
general utility business, which consisted 
of anything and everything of a minor 
description, to respectable utility, which 
was a step higher. An actor then usually 
discovered what he could do best, and 
chose his line of business. The lines of 
business consisted of general utility, re- 
spectable utility, first walking gentleman, 
second walking gentleman, first old man, 
second old man, first and second heavy 
business, first and second low comedy, ju- 
venile business, light comedy and eccen- 
tric business, and leading business. For 
actresses the grades were leading lady, 
juvenile lady, chambermaid, and first and 
second old woman. Of course it was hard 
work until you became familiar with the 
parts belonging to your line ; then it be- 
came comparatively easy. 

My brother George was the first to leave 
home. He looked quite a man, although 
45 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

lie was only seventeen years of age. He 
remained with Mr. Bennett, who had two 
theaters, one at Worcester and the other 
at Coventry, for two years. My brother 
Robert and I remained with Alexander 
for one season longer 5 but the fact that 
George had struck out for himself sug- 
gested to us that we had arrived at an age 
when we ought to be able to fend for our- 
selves, so we wrote to various managers 
for a joint engagement, resolving not to 
separate if we could avoid it. Our appli- 
cations were for respectable utility, and 
the favorable reply received was from Mr. 
Pollock of the Theater Royal, Aberdeen, 
who offered, if we were content to place 
ourselves under his guidance, to receive 
us at a joint salary of thirty shillings per 
week. Bob and I were frantic with joy 5 
it seemed a fortune after Alexander's shil- 
ling and sixpenny arrangement. I think 
if we read Pollock's letter once, we must 
have read it fifty times. Of course we 
lost no time in sending a letter of accep- 
tance. My father took a rosy view, say- 
ing it was a fine opportunity for us ; that 
46 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

we had ability, and would be sure to get 
on. "As for Jim," he said, "he '11 make 
a fine melodramatic actor. I never saw 
any one who could make a better back- 
fall." He advised us also to keep what 
we earned until the end of the Glasgow 
season, and with it to get ourselves a few 
properties, as we should require them. 

"You will each want a pair of russet 
boots," he said, "a pair of sandals, two 
pairs of tights, a pair of fleshings, two 
ostrich feathers, and a sword." Father 
seemed as much pleased as Bob and I 
were ; but mother, who had been sitting 
in a corner during the conversation, was 
crying. Bob said : "Why, mother, you 
are crying." Father, in his characteristic 
way, said: "Confound it! what are you 
crying for 1 ?" "Oh, I can't help it, dear," 
returned mother, "when I think of their 
leaving us." 

So when our season in Glasgow had 
come to an end, we were not only enabled 
to get the few things necessary for the 
stage, but could also buy a new suit of 
clothes each. I remember them well ; 
47 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

they were black velveteen. Although I 
was fourteen months older than my 
brother Bob, our playmates in Dunlop 
Street said we looked like twins. When 
we donned our velveteens, I recall how 
they made fun of us, asking if we were in 
mourning for the cat. 

We had a vacation of a few months be- 
tween our closing in Glasgow and the date 
of our opening in Aberdeen. Mother, 
who was our treasurer, was very frugal 
during the summer, so that she could give 
us sufficient to enable us to pay the ex- 
penses of our journey and see us over until 
we received our first week's salary. Dear 
soul ! she was for days mending and get- 
ting all our limited belongings together. 
We sent the trunk containing our joint 
effects ahead of us, as we intended walk- 
ing some part of the way and riding for 
the rest. We walked our first day's jour- 
ney, mother and father seeing us a wee 
bit on the road. I remember we went 
into a tavern by the roadside and had 
some bread, cheese, and ale. Then the 
time for separation came. Mother kissed 
48 



ROYAL AMPHITHEATRE, 

Kale lessee *. Manager, Mr. TV. R. COPEU V D 1 i. Gt. Cli ar loin-.. I ¥ 



MISS F.BAKER 



ON WHICH OC 



MRS- STIRUNG 

AND 

MR- CQM.PTON 

On WEDNDSDAY, SEPTEMBER 28th, 1853, 

A NEW COMEDT BY STIBUNO COYNE. E»q.. CALLED 

DAUGHTER 

Mr l.,leif Mr. J. STODDART. 

Mr Ormonde Mr. A. STIRLING. 

Cbtnle. Apsler Mr. B. STODDART. 

Gillyflower Mr. COJIPTOM. 

Tittumi Mi.. SEN SETT. 

Mrs. Ormonde mr8.STIRI.ISG. 

Clir. WU> F.BAKER. 

Mrs. Irylcf MuuEDWASDS. 

Ro» Mi» JEFFRIES. 

CHARLES ¥11. 

Chule. XII (Kinp of Sweden 1 Mr. CATHCART. 

Ad.m Brock (• We.Ith. F.rmer .n the I.^nJ of Rugen) Mr. R. BAKER. 

THptoItmoj Moddlework (Burgomaster of Circo.) Mr. ERSSER 

M«orViob7rr (ander the name of Firmann) Mr. STIBliKtl 

Gmtr.IDuct.rl Mr. HUNTER. 

Guiunr de Mcrr.lt Mr. RICHARD STODD ART. 

Colonel Keich.l Mr. BARNES. 

S«ntinel Mr. CAMPBELL. 

Fir* Officer Mr D0UGLA3. | .-co.nd Officer Mr. J AMU 

Ulrica I .... t D«u s hter lo V.nberc) Mcu MASKELL. 

Eudig. ( Daughter of Adun Brock) - M,u FANNT BAKE1L 



To be followed by . New »nd Or.g.n J F.rce. in One Act. by J. P. WOOLER. Esq.. 



FOUNDED ON FACTS! 

Cpuin Hirwood Mr. ERSSER. 

Sceptic (bis Original Character) Mr. (OBPTOI 

Lieutenant Frank Oriley Mr. R. STODDART. 



■ EDWARDS. 



The whole to eoodude with THE 



IIII61T WATCE 

A TALE OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 

Pierre DeUroche Mr. CATHCART. 

Antoine Dotal ( Connt de Mcrrille) Mr RICHARD STODDART. 



. B.BAKER. 
.Mr. BUNTER. 
Mr. MACKAY 



Mr.EBSSIR. 

- War. Bin 

ERSSER, 



The Fortress— The Prisoner-Unexpected Meetlng-The SchooI-fellows-Tlio lote. 

"AT MIDNIGHT AN ATTEMPT WILL BE MADE TO SAVE YOU!" 

Am>al of lite Guard- '■Tis He' my Father !"— The Watch is filed— '■ Exchange with Me"— Agreed— The Story — The 
Recognition— Plan of Escape. 

"IM.I Error— I've Exchanged '-—No- III Save my Child '—The Quarter— The Sleeping Draught— THE MIDNIGHT 
WATCH IS SET '—The Escape— Pursuit— The Victim : Hold ! 

ROBESPIERRE IS DEAD! OPEN YOUR PRISON GATES !-SAVED-SAVED! 

" Tickets to be had ol Mil. FANNY BAKER, 80. Russell-streeL ~ 

ADBXISSIOlt . Dr.u Box**, 3a.; Sid* Mttm, 2*.6«.; M, la. 94L; Calluy, 5Z 
SECOH9 raiCEi Dim* Box**, **.; Sid* B.m, la. 64.; Pit, la. 

Tti. BOXeFFICE i. open from 10 rill 3 o'Jock dadj. (or aecoring SEATS ud taking Private Bora, .bid an h hvl aadW UK Au-eetwn of Mr. 

SHUTTLEWORTH.-Cbddren in arm. will aot be a'aitttj. 
Bwb *p«» *t Hilf-put 8, th« Parlor— «ac« t» com***avt« at 7 pr*cl— ly. 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYEE 

us ; father grasped our hands, crying : 
"God bless you, boys !" They turned 
toward Glasgow, and Bob and I faced the 
north and the world. We were all snivel- 
ing. The first part of our journey we 
walked, and having abundance of time, 
we did it by easy stages. 

We were determined to ride into Aber- 
deen, which we did, arriving on a Sunday. 
Having ascertained that the Theater Royal 
was situated in Marshall Street, we set out 
to look for suitable lodgings in the vicin- 
ity, and succeeded in finding a nice room. 
At the theater we found our trunk, and 
promptly caused it to be sent to our lodg- 
ing. The theater was to open on the fol- 
lowing Wednesday. When we arrived 
again at our room, the landlady seemed 
anxious to know our occupation, and 
when we told her that we were actors she 
was somewhat taken aback, and we heard 
her repeat the information to others in 
the next room, and it appeared to stagger 
the entire family. Nothing was said until 
Bob, while unpacking his bag, began to 
whistle a snatch of a song. It was then 
4 49 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

that the landlady really bounded into our 
room, exclaiming in great perturbation : 
"For mercy's sake, what are you doin', 
whistlin' on the Lord's day? Git oot o' 
ma hoose ! Put your things back into your 
bag, and git oot." We told her, in no 
mistakable terms, what we thought of 
her, and we left. And it was fortunate 
that we did so, for we succeeded in being 
received in the house of one of the kind- 
est and most motherly of persons, with 
whom we remained for a number of years. 
On the following morning we went to 
the theater, and found that the opening 
play was " Hamlet," in which we were 
assigned two small parts. Later, however, 
we were informed by Mr. Pollock that the 
actor who was to have played Horatio 
could not come, and that one of us would 
have to go on for the part. Of course Bob 
did not want to attempt it, nor did I ; but, 
by virtue of my seniority of fourteen 
months, it finally devolved on me. I 
remember how I walked up and down 
our room, hour after hour, trying to get 
the words of Horatio into my head. Now 
50 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

I could repeat it ; then all the words would 
leave me. Mr. Richard Young, a good 
actor, had been brought from London as 
our leading man, and he chose Hamlet for 
his opening part. At rehearsal he in- 
structed the actors playing Horatio and 
Marcellus to do just as he did in making the 
exit when Hamlet follows the ghost off. 
HamleVs business was to drop his hat and 
cloak, and, crouching, point with his left 
hand as he made his exit, saying: "Go 
on ! I '11 follow thee." I suppose it must 
have been effective, for he received a 
round of applause ; but when we, acting 
according to our instructions, picked up 
his hat and cloak, and, crouching, pointed 
with our left hands, in clumsy imitation 
of the Dane, we certainly did not evoke 
the public favor. A low comedian would 
have been well pleased at the man- 
ner in which our efforts were received. 
Mr. Pollock, who was at the wing when 
we came off, said to us : "What the devil 
are you doing % " We could only stammer 
that Mr. Young had told us to make our 
exit in that way. I really knew more of 
51 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

the words than I thought I should, but I 
was disconcerted at the behavior of the 
audience whenever MarceUus or Horatio 
appeared, and I was very glad when it 
was all over. Bob comforted me with the 
assurance that I had done well under the 
circumstances, but Mr. Pollock had formed 
a different opinion, for next day he sent 
me the following note : 

Dear Sir : Your services will not be required 
after the expiration of four weeks. If your 
brother wishes, we shall be pleased to retain 
Mm. Yours truly, 

William Pollock. 

I do not think I ever felt more unhappy 
in my life. Bob and I had made close cal- 
culations of the amount we should be able 
to save out of our thirty shillings, and 
had arranged what we would purchase. 
I remember how dear Bob endeavored to 
console me. " Never mind, Jim," he said ; 
"we can live on the fifteen shillings I re- 
ceive, and you can be understudying parts, 
so it will be all right yet." I inclosed Mr. 
Pollock's note to my father, and received, 
by return mail, this answer : 
52 



BECOLLECTI(XN T S OF A PLAYER 

Dear Jim: Sorry to hear of your trouble. 
At the end of the four weeks make yourself 
quite sure at the treasury, pull Pollock's nose, 
and come home. 

Your affectionate Father. 

"Hamlet" was repeated before my four 
weeks' notice had expired. I was now 
glib in the words, and Mr. Young had 
cut out the objectionable business of our 
exit. I was told by members of the com- 
pany that if I had been as good at the first 
representation as at the second, I should 
have been all right. During what I sup- 
posed to be my final week they played a 
Scotch drama called "Gilderoy," in which 
I was cast for the part of Walter Logan. 
Now this was one of Alexander's old 
pieces, and Walter Logan one of my father's 
characters. He was supposed to be an old 
Scotchman taken prisoner by the English, 
and under sentence of death, and he had 
some telling patriotic pieces to deliver, 
one ending, I remember, with the words, 
" Scotland may be the friend of England, 
but never will be her slave." I knew all 
the words of the part, and remembered 
53 



BECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYEE 

where father used to get his applause. 
Bob said, " Jim, this is your chauce ; show 
them what they are losing." I felt it was 
my opportunity, and I got on so well that 
Mr. Pollock came to me after the per- 
formance, congratulated me, and said he 
thought that, on reflection, it would be a 
pity to separate me from my brother, so 
he would be glad to have me remain. I 
did so, for a number of years. I was not 
much over seventeen, and had to put on 
a gray wig for the part of Walter Logan. 
I have been wearing them ever since. 

"We had an eight months' season in 
Aberdeen, and played nearly all the re- 
mainder of the year in the smaller towns in 
the north of Scotland,— Arbroath, Forfar, 
Banff, Fochabers, and Elgin,— going as far 
north as Inverness. We grew to know 
many kind people in these places, visit- 
ing them as we did every year. In fact, 
no two fellows could have been more 
happy than we were on our thirty shillings 
a week, which was more than ample for 
all our wants, and enabled us even to send 
a little home to our brothers Dick and Ben. 
54 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

In those days a man could live in a small 
town in the north almost for nothing. In 
Banff we had a good room, and the "gude 
wife," the owner of the cottage in which 
we lived, bought our provisions for the 
week ; and when we asked her what we 
should pay she looked at us in the kindest 
way, and said : " Weel, laddies, it has been 
a great pleasure to me and the bairns to 
have ye in the hoose all the week, so I 
dinna think I could charge you onything." 
Despite our protestations, she would re- 
ceive nothing from us, and the only way 
we could recompense her at all was by 
slipping a few shillings into the hands of 
the wee tots her children, who clung to 
the dress of their mither, saying they 
didna want to see us go. This is only one 
instance of the kindness we experienced 
in the north of Scotland. 

We had no study, playing the same 
pieces that we had played in Aberdeen. 
Bob and I fished, I believe, nearly every 
stream worth fishing in the north. We 
would "flog " the streams most of the day, 
often taking a few trout into an adjacent 
55 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

farm-house, and getting a bowl of sweet 
milk and a bit of oatmeal-cake for our 
pains. The "auld wife " of the house was 
ever eager to hear "a' the news frae the 
toon," and have a "wee crack aboot her 
Majesty the Queen," whom every Scotch 
country woman loved. And so the weeks 
flew quickly by until the time for our re- 
opening in Aberdeen. Before the end of 
our career there Mr. Pollock said he re- 
garded us as two of the most important 
members of his company, and he proved 
it by raising our salaries each season. I 
played all the first old men, and Bob the 
comedy business. We had a joint benefit 
every year, which always turned out well. 
Thus all went bravely, and we were happy 
and contented, until I discovered that Bob 
had fallen head over ears in love with a 
Scotch lassie and begun seriously to con- 
template matrimony. I felt it would be 
a great mistake, not only for him, but for 
the object of his affections, who was the 
daughter of poor Scotch country people. 
Bob was young, and was only dawning into 
a position, and had a very small salary $ so 
56 



NEW ADELPHI THEATRE 



CHBISTIAN STREET, I SUIsTQ- TO 1ST 



W. S. BRANSON respectfully .ntimaus 




Mr J H.ST0OBAAT 

f A&IWlM illif IT 

AAd mmke hJs U« sppear&Hca ia the above Theatre, whore he appeared ae- many years by favoi* of the public. 

ONWEDNESDAY NEXT, JULY 86, 1865 

W. R. COPELA1MD, Esq. 

Daa In Ibe noil luinau manner |?>nl«l Ike .aluable ffrflesi of the following dUiin|y|jnf< 
meaaaara of Ibe Bajal *mphllh«a«re Company. »'« 

Mr* J. C. COW PER 

MESS RIGNOLD, 
miUS GOODALL 

fWHO WILL APPEAR IN THRF.E OF THEIB. MOST FAVOTTBITE CHARACTERS. 

MBmFWET 



m 

1 



1 

SI 




w mtill. im» riiinie »-»■■• tiiTWiiaiT mci iv8»«.,r 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

I, as his senior, thought my age gave me 
the right to exert a little authority. He 
met my argument, however, as to the 
smallness of his income, in a way that 
made me feel somewhat ashamed, by re- 
minding me that when I had been dis- 
charged, and he had proffered to divide 
his salary with me, there then arose no such 
objection, and said that there should be 
no difference between keeping me and 'keep- 
ing Jeannie. I was rather nonplussed. 
However, Bob was a good, sensible chap, 
and felt it somewhat of a risky step to 
take, and so matters drifted along for more 
than a year. But time could not alter the 
feelings of either, for if ever two young 
people truly loved, it was these two. One 
evening he did not turn up at the per- 
formance. I sat up nearly all the night 
waiting for him, but no Bob appeared. 
Next day I received a letter saying he and 
his Jeannie were married and had gone to 
England. I felt the separation keenly, 
and was lonely without him. They have 
both been dead many years. They had 
many troubles during a long married life, 
57 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

but those troubles never took from them 
their strong affection for each other. 

At the end of the season Mr. Pollock 
expressed himself as anxious that I should 
remain, and I had really become an essen- 
tial and important member of his company, 
also rather popular with the audiences, 
which was very gratifying considering 
how different my position had been at the 
beginning of my Aberdeen career. I told 
my manager that although I fully appre- 
ciated all he had done for me, — and he 
had been very kind,— I felt I could not 
remain without my brother. So I bade 
good-by to Scotland, and I have never 
seen it since. While I live I shall ever 
remember the many happy years passed 
there. 

My father, in the meantime, had left 
Glasgow, and he was now engaged at the 
Adelphi Theater in Liverpool. So to 
Liverpool I went, and spent a few happy 
weeks with my parents and brothers. I 
could find no opening at any of the 
theaters in that city, but I succeeded in 
obtaining an engagement with Mr. Mose- 
58 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYEE 

ley, the manager of the theater at Brad- 
ford, in Yorkshire. This engagement was 
thought to be a desirable one, for Moseley 
had been established in Bradford for many 
years. Moreover, the season was long and 
the money sure, which was quite a consid- 
eration in those days. Moseley would often 
have a short season also in Huddersfield, 
for which extra people were engaged. I 
was disappointed when I found that I was 
sent there and not to Bradford. The com- 
pany was a good one. The Robertson cir- 
cuit had broken up, and Mr. Robertson 
was now the stage -manager at Hudders- 
field, while his son Tom Robertson (who 
afterward wrote "Caste," "School," etc.) 
played walking gentleman at a salary of 
twenty-five shillings a week. Although, 
even at this time, he was writing, he had 
produced no play. Upon several occasions 
he invited me to his room to hear him 
read some of his works, and he would ask 
my opinion of them. I am afraid they 
were, at that time, a little beyond my com- 
prehension. 

The season at Huddersfield closed in 
59 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

about eight weeks, and the company closed 
with the season. I had a letter from Mr. 
Moseley saying I might come on to Brad- 
ford and continue, if I wished. As I was 
the only one in the company who was so 
fortunate, I was congratulated by all my 
associates. I remember Robertson saying : 
"You lucky fellow, to be engaged for 
Bradford ! I wish I were." He also pro- 
posed to me that I should purchase of him 
his two pairs of knee-breeches, one of nan- 
keen and the other of doeskin, saying that 
they would be useful, and that he would 
let me have them cheap. I bought them 
from him, paying half a crown for one pair 
and eighteenpence for the other. I have 
them yet, and when, in later years, Tom 
Robertson became the brilliant author, I 
often looked at those old breeches and 
wondered if the plays which he read to 
me in his little room in Huddersfield were 
those which were produced in his famous 
time. 

I remained with the Bradford company 
for two years. Dominick Murray and 
Lysander Thompson— the latter an excel- 
60 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

lent actor of Yorkshire characters, who 
afterward came to America— were mem- 
bers of Mr. Moseley's company at that 
time. John Dyott, afterward a member 
of Wallack's Broome Street Theater, had 
also been connected with this company. 
John Dyott was a capital actor, and one 
of Mr. Wallaces principal members ; he 
was well known and quite popular in New 
York at the Broome Street honse. All 
theater-goers knew Dyott well, and liked 
him both on and off the stage. He had a 
standing joke which he repeated to us each 
night on entering the theater. "Boys," 
he would say, "I met a man on Broadway, 
and he said to me : i John, do you know 
why you '11 never die cold? Because 
you '11 die-ot ! ' " 

My brother George, who had been for 
several years with Mr. Copeland, manager 
of the Theater Royal and also the Am- 
phitheater in Liverpool, sent me word that 
he had spoken about me, and that Mr. 
Copeland had said he would be pleased to 
hear from me. I therefore wrote to him 
and the result was that I left Bradford 
61 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

and went to Liverpool. This was by far 
my most important engagement, and after 
a time I had a very responsible position. 
All the stars from London whom I had 
met as a child in Glasgow I now supported 
in prominent parts. As my father was 
still at the Adelphi, we all lived together, 
and were very jolly. My brother Robert 
and his wife also came to live at Liver- 
pool, so we were all employed at the 
different theaters of the city. It was a 
renewal of old times. As the theaters 
kept open all the year, the engagements 
were very desirable. At this time my 
salary was thirty shillings per week, and 
I played all the principal old men. 

As I had conceived the idea of possess- 
ing a fine stock of wigs, I ordered Mr. 
Taylor, the theatrical wig-maker, to make 
a new one for me every week for an en- 
tire season. Every wig that I saw on the 
head of another actor, and that I thought 
a good one, I asked Mr. Taylor to dupli- 
cate. It so happened that William Farren 
came to play at the Theater Royal, and 
one of his parts was Grandfather Whitehead, 
62 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

I was completely delighted with the wig 
he wore in this character. This wig, made 
to represent a bald head, instead of the 
old familiar mnslin or calico had a natu- 
ral polished scalp, and was the first one 
of the kind I had ever seen. As Farren 
walked into the green-room, made up, I 
could not keep my eyes off him. Mr. 
Taylor, the wig-maker, had dressed the 
wig, and he came to the theater at night 
to adjust it. The wig was so well made 
that no observer could detect where it 
joined the forehead of the actor. In the 
old days this was frequently not the case. 
I have often seen actors come to the 
theater late, and put on their wigs like 
nightcaps, daubing powder on their fore- 
heads, and fancying themselves properly 
made up. I asked Taylor about Farren's 
wig, and how it was made. "Well," said 
Taylor, "the wig, I imagine, was built in 
France. The scalp is as hard as a board, 
flesh- colored, and shines. Then, he uses a 
composition or cement, the same color as 
the bald portion of the wig, which he 
heats over the gas, with a small brush in 
63 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

it, and when the cement is thoroughly 
melted, he paints his forehead and the 
lower part of the wig, giving the whole 
three coats. It is a wonderful invention, 
but I think I could duplicate it." I 
quickly instructed him to do so. It hap- 
pened that Mr. Barry Sullivan came to 
play an engagement after Farren, one of 
his pieces being "The Gamester," in which 
I was cast as Jarvis, a very old man. 
"Here," thought I, "is my chance to wear 
the Farren wig." Taylor promised to 
have it ready, and he kept his word. I 
had my cement-brush, etc., but the wig 
could not be made to sit snugly on the top 
of my head $ it had rather the appearance 
of a well- developed cocoanut. However, 
we both thought that it did n't much 
matter, as it had such a beautiful polish. 
"Beginners" were called, and I left my 
dressing-room for the green-room, where 
most of the characters were assembled. 
When I made my appearance with my 
new wig, they were convulsed with laugh- 
ter, and Barry Sullivan, who was known 
to be the most disagreeable of men, said : 
64 



Theatre RoyaT, Co vent-Garde a 

This prefent Monday, October 24. 1814, 

^^^ Wilbe»a«d SM\r.sPiA5E'sTiage<?y of 

Romeo and Juliet 

Priade Efcslus by Mr. CLAREMONT, Paris by Sfr. HAMERTON, 

Mcaiague, Mr. CUES', 1 / ELL, Capulet, Mr.EGERTON 

Itaarco ly Mr. UO'NWAY, Mercutio, Mr. JONES, Bemobo, Mr. JEFFER1E9 

'iybaltMvB.UlRYMQRE, Friar Laurence Mr MURRAY, FrJ*f.fohn Mr HO WELL 

Apothecary, Mr i'reby, PagevMalter Chap:mn, Baiths&r by Mr Durufet 
Alwam Mr.SarJHat, Samson Mr Atkins, Gregory Mr Uramptoaj/i'eter Mr Simmons 
Imxv Capulet by Mrs. REN ADD, 
jaket by Mifs O'NEILL. 

fitting her K/h atf-.-jrance in tr.il ch'irader) 

Nurfe by Mrs DAVENPORT. 
4 MASQUERADE a>*d DANCE 

INCIOFNTAI. TO THK PLAY. 

InacilF, The Funeral ProceiTion cf Juliet, and a Solemn Dirge. 

Trhe yotai I'd'it by M^fi". Broadhur'.t, I Brows, Evcrrd, L**\ L'troo, Moatagus, Norii 

Taylor, J- Taylor, Terry. • at , S. letf, Hcney, " v'.on, William.*, 

Mefdan-.es >iibop, Bologna, Carcw, Cones, Ocirr, via, Em.rv, Fiudlav, Cwrimddl, Hnth, Iliff 

Lefeivc, Lifton, Log a. Luuii. *>;atthc-s, Ryall, S?*ton, Sund«n, Watts, Whitmore. 

After which, l$th time-,* Nca- M-ic-Dr.n;ia, in 3 acli, [f wded oa an ilifturipJ KadtJ called The 

Forest of Bondy; 

Or, 77^ DOG <?/• MONTARGIS. 

Colonel Gontran by Mr. BARRYMORE, 

Capt. Aubri bv Mr. ABBOTT, Lieut. Macaire bv Mr. F A RLE Y. 

Lieut. Landry by Mr. HAMERTON", The Seaefchal of Bor-dy by Mr.EGERTON, 

Florio (a Dumb Orphan) by Mils S. BOOTH, 
Blaife by Mr. LISTON, Enfign, Mr. Durcset, Sergeant, Mr. Roweli. 
Dame Gertrude, Mrs. DAVENPORT,' Annette Mrs. Norm ax, Louife Mifs VVesi 

Lucille by Mils FOOTE. 
In acH a Paftoral Pas deDeux byMonf.SoifTons&Mrs Parker 

E *l--er.V ."r t .. t -. f.-a^w-ftreet. i r-mton . i»V"i*r » r ■- •- jE ■■'-*■ 

__ _ ^ ^ ^ O'NEILLs 

Performances continue to be greeted with the cntbuGaftick admiration of overflow- 
ing audiences— the, will repeat the character of BELV'IDERA on Wednefday aud 
on Friday next— and the part of JULIET on every Monday till further notice. 

V Mr/ KEMBLEs 

Nights of performing "will be Tomorrow, on Thurfday and Saturda}-. 
* ft * No Orders can be admitted. 

Tre New Melo-Drama called " * 

The FOREST of BON DY; or, The DOG of MONTARGIS, 

being tulfy efta'difhed in the higheft degree or'popuhr favour ar.d attraction, ^'ill be repeated 
Tomorrow , Thurfday and Friday next 
Tomorrno, the Tragedy of CAT*.;. Cato by Mr. K.EMBLE. 

On Wednfdav, Otwax's Tragedy of VENICE PRESERVED. • 

' Jafficr by Mr. CJXV.V.Y, Pierre by Mr. YOUNG, 

Belvidera b y M £ O' NEILL, ( Being her S tk eppeara nee in that ciantcler) 
With UICHAKD CQiUR im MUX- • Matilda, Mifs STEPHENS. 
OalT-Mrfday, Shafpeare's Tragedy of HAMLET. Ha-.alet by Mr. KEMBLE. 

On Saturday, fhetfreir/s'Vngsij of JULIUS OESAR. 
Brutus by Mr. K-tMBLE, Marc Antony by Mr. CON WAY, Caffiusby Mr, YOUXG. 
The Opera of THE MAID OF THE MILL, 

having been revived, and acted twice wiih !he gre.-.tert fuccefs, * ill be repeated on 7 ue/duy I/? Nov. 
* # * The I'ublick are 1 efpectjul'.y informed that 
A New Opera, in two ads, Las bc-en feme time in reacarf.i, called 

JOHN, OF PARIS, 

start will be pioduccl as focn as po^ble. 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

"For heaven's sake, take that porringer 
off your head, or you don't play Jarvis 
with me." Taylor, who had come to the 
theater to view his handiwork, hearing 
this remark, made his exit from the 
stage -door, and I ignominiously sought my 
dressing-room, and there removed the wig 
of which I had hoped so much, putting on 
one of the old make. I never repeated 
the experiment until I came to America. 
During this engagement Sullivan had 
trouble, on one occasion, with a person in 
the audience. The play was "Hamlet," 
and in a lower private box there sat a 
gentleman alone, who was not paying the 
slightest attention to the play, but seemed 
to be interested in a newspaper which he 
was assiduously reading. As Sullivan 
began the soliloquy, "To be or not to be, 
that is the question," the individual in 
the private box continued to read his 
paper. At this Sullivan could stand it no 
longer, and walking down the stage and 
addressing the offender, "Sir," he said, 
"when you have finished reading that 
paper I will go on, but not until then." 
5 65 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

The gentleman in the box, coolly folding 
np his paper, put it in his pocket, and, 
adjusting his hat upon his head, replied : 
" Thank you, I have seen and heard quite 
enough. Good evening." He then walked 
out of the theater, and the tragedian re- 
sumed his soliloquy. Sullivan was a 
favorite in Liverpool, Manchester, and 
other provincial cities, but never in Lon- 
don. While Macready was playing Mac- 
beth at the Theater Royal, Mr. Copeland in- 
duced Sullivan to play Macduff; but when 
he saw Macready' s name in larger letters 
than his own, he left for Manchester, and 
would not act. He was a clever man, but 
ill-tempered, and he was much disliked 
on account of his irritating personal pecu- 
liarities. 

William Farren played a farewell en- 
gagement in Liverpool a little while be- 
fore I left for America, but oh, how 
changed ! His appearance was the same 
as ever, but his voice had become almost 
inarticulate, and it was difficult to under- 
stand him. He brought down from Lon- 
don one of the greatest actors of his time, 
66 



EECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYEE 

Mr. Eobson— "Little Eobson," as he was 
called, small in stature, but a giant in 
ability. Farren would begin the per- 
formance with one of the old comedies,— 
such as "The Hypocrite," in which he 
played Doctor Cantwell, "London Assur- 
ance," in which he played Sir Har court 
Courtly, or "The Eivals," in which he 
played Sir Anthony Absolute,— and "Little 
Eobson" played, as an afterpiece, each 
evening during the engagement, only the 
one part of Shylock in a burlesque of the 
"Merchant of Venice," entitled "The Mer- 
chant of Venice Preserved." In this his 
acting was marvelous. Farren used to 
stand at the wing every night to see him 
play the scene with Tubal, in which Shy- 
lock hears of his daughter's flight ; and I 
have heard Farren say that Eobson's per- 
formance was as great as Edmund Kean's. 
All the principal London people, one 
following the other, would come down 
and play at the Theater Eoyal ; so it was 
my good fortune to see and to be associated 
with Macready, Helen Faucit, Charlotte 
Cushman, Phelps, Mr. and Mrs. Charles 
67 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

Kean, Webster and Celeste, Charles Ma- 
thews, Mme. Vestris, Mr. and Mrs. Kee- 
ley, Buckstone, Mrs. Fitzwilliam, Wright, 
Paul Bedford, and many others. Al- 
though I was at that time, as I thought, 
getting on well in my profession, and had 
received many compliments as to my 
ability, in witnessing the efforts of these 
artists I felt myself to be an insignificant 
being j and I was glad to be sensible 
enough to know it. All these stars would 
fill out the season until the production of 
the Christmas pantomime, when we played 
stock pieces with the regular stock com- 
pany. Then every one had to do what- 
ever was required of him. The conse- 
quence was that a member would have a 
fine part one night, and a few lines to speak 
the next. I can remember playing Sir Har- 
court Courtly in " London Assurance," and, 
during the same evening, going on as a 
baker in the comic scenes of the panto- 
mime, a board of loaves upon my head, and 
being knocked down by the clown and 
pelted with my own bread by the panta- 
loon. 

68 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

My brother George had received the 
offer of an engagement at a new theater 
in Boston, in the United States, under the 
management of a Mr. Fleming. George 
had already married Miss Ann Taylor, 
and they had an infant daughter (who is 
now, 1902, Mrs. ISTeil Burgess). Miss 
Taylor, like my brother, had been with 
Mr. Copeland for several years. As George 
had, therefore, an extra claim upon his 
exertions, and the American salary was 
nearly double that received in England, 
he resolved to make the venture. We all 
went down to the landing-stage and saw 
him and his family off, doubting if we 
should ever see them again. The crossing 
of the Atlantic, in those days, was con- 
sidered a more serious matter than it is 
now. In fact, I remember, when we used 
to play with other boys in Glasgow, there 
was one of our playmates who was quite 
looked up to because of the fact that his 
father had been to America. 

Our letters from America, during the 
ensuing winter, told of George's success in 
Boston, and how much he liked the coun- 
69 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYEE 

try. The chances, he said, were much 
better for success in the New World, and 
he advised us all to come out. I made up 
my mind that I would go, but my other 
brothers thought they would wait to see 
how I succeeded before they made the 
venture. My father determined that if I 
went he would go with me. As it was not 
thought prudent to arrive in New York 
much before the opening of the next regu- 
lar season, my father had ample time for 
reflection. It was comic to note his change 
of mind and the different conclusions he 
reached. My mother was non-committal, 
saying she was willing to abide by father's 
decision j but this placed her in rather an 
uncertain position, as he altered his mind 
each day. When the weather was fine he 
would say : "Mary, my dear, what a treat 
the voyage will be ! It will do you more 
good than all the doctors in Liverpool." 
Then, when clouds obscured the sky and 
the wind blew strong and cold, he would 
completely change his views, saying : "My 
dear, I don't exactly see my way clear in 
this matter. Crossing the Atlantic at our 
70 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

time of life is a risky business, and I really 
think George was inconsiderate in advis- 
ing it." Perhaps the very next day he 
would say to me : "Well, Jim, how about 
this American trip ? " and upon my reply- 
ing that I had made up my mind to go, 

he would immediately say : "Then, d 

it, I '11 go too." I could not know surely 
about his movements until a few days be- 
fore sailing, when we had to make the 
necessary arrangements. My father had 
a friend named Page, who was the captain 
of a sailing-ship called the Washington, and 
when he heard of father's intention he 
suggested that we cross with him. His 
wife, he said, was going, and it would be 
pleasant for her, as also for Mrs. Stoddart. 
The result was that we crossed in the 
Washington. 

Mr. Copeland, our manager, seemed 
sorry that I was leaving, and said that he 
would add ten shillings a week to my sal- 
ary if I would remain. But even this did 
not tempt me. I was not to be persuaded 
from my determination to visit America. 
He treated me very well, for when he 
71 



EECOLLECTIOISrS OF A PLAYER 

found I was resolved, he told me that the 
principal theater in New York was man- 
aged by a friend of his, Mr. James W. 
Wallack, who had played many engage- 
ments with him in Liverpool, and that I 
might use his name, by way of introduc- 
tion, when I reached New York. 

My brothers Eobert and Richard came 
down to the dock to see us off ; my young- 
est brother, Ben, being too young to be 
left behind, came with us. On a bright 
morning in midsummer we set sail. We 
had comfortable quarters, and the captain 
seemed resolved to make things agreeable 
for us. We were all jolly for a time ; but 
my mirth was short-lived, as the motion 
of the ship soon began to tell on me, and 
after we got to sea I became downright 
ill. I was put to bed, and I never knew 
another moment's comfort until the pilot- 
boat took us in charge off Long Island. 
My father was a capital sailor— he would 
walk up and down the deck for hours, 
smoking his pipe ; but my mother was 
almost as ill as I was during the trip. The 
voyage lasted six weeks, the weather be- 
ing stormy during the greater part of the 
72 




James W. Wallack. 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

time. I was in my berth nearly all the 
time, eating little and suffering much. 
Toward the end of the voyage my father 
insisted on taking me from my berth and 
getting me up on deck. He had to carry 
me in his arms to do so. I must have 
been a wretched spectacle, as I had not 
been able to shave for four weeks. Many 
who knew not of my presence on board 
were startled at my appearance, regarding 
me, I have no doubt, as some Yander- 
decken, or monster of the deep. The 
weather was then calm and beautiful, so, 
to a certain extent, I was benefited by 
the change ; but toward evening it began 
to blow, and, my former symptoms return- 
ing, I was glad again to seek the seclusion 
of my bunk. If the ship had been fated 
to go to the bottom, and I fully cognizant 
of the fact, the realization would not have 
caused me much anxiety. At this time it 
was brought home to me that I had been 
lucky to escape when I did not succeed, 
as a boy, in making the sea my business. 
But as all things come to an end, so did 
this voyage. 

On a beautiful August day in 1854 I 
73 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

had my first glimpse of the shores of 
America. 

Captain Page had given us the address 
of a person in New York where he thought 
we might be accommodated with board 
and lodging. Here we were comfortable 
but for frequent attacks of clouds of mos- 
quitos. I had a friend, a member of Mr. 
Copeland's Liverpool company, who was 
a native American, and he had first ad- 
vised me to go to America, as to which 
country he was enthusiastic. He told me 
that the principal theaters in New York 
were Mr. Wallack's and Mr. Burton's, and 
that if I could succeed in getting into 
either I should be well placed for the rest 
of my life. I remember that he had grown 
enthusiastic, telling me that I certainly 
should double the salary which I then 
received, probably getting three pounds 
(fifteen dollars) a week at first, and that, 
with good luck, I might eventually receive 
a salary of five pounds (twenty-five dol- 
lars) a week. My friend, whose name 
was Morehouse, had married Miss Fanny 
Wallack, a cousin of Lester Wallack. 
74 



BECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYEE 

diaries Morehouse made his first ap- 
pearance in America September 5, 1848, at 
the Park, under Hamblin's management, 
as Numitorius in "Virginius." He was the 
original of the Drunkard. He never re- 
turned from England. Fanny Wallack 
died in Edinburgh, October 12, 1856, aged 
thirty-four. 

I had brought with me to America some 
playbills containing my name in various 
casts for principal characters, and I was 
told by Mr. Parsloe, who was at that time, 
I believe, the only dramatic agent in New 
York (he had an office in Chambers Street), 
that he thought I might dismiss the idea 
of doing business with either Wallack or 
Burton, as each had a company which was 
fully made up and difficult to enter. He 
said that there was a company being 
formed by Mr. Forbes for the theater at 
Providence, Ehode Island, and he thought 
he might place me there. I told him that 
in the event of my not succeeding in New 
York I should be glad to go to Providence. 
As I left him he said that he knew of no 
actor in the country who would not be 
75 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYEB 

pleased to play anything with Mr. Wal- 
lack, and at Wallack's own terms ; but I 
was not to be discouraged, so I determined 
to approach Mr. Wallack, and thereupon 
wrote to him a letter, in which I said that 
I had been a member of Mr. Copeland's 
company in Liverpool, and had acted im- 
portant parts both at the Amphitheater 
and the Theater Eoyal in that city, and 
that Mr. Copeland had said that he was 
well known to Mr. Wallack, and had 
given me permission to use his name 
by way of introduction ; also that if he 
thought he could make room for me, I 
should be pleased to place myself under 
his guidance. 

I received no reply for more than a 
week, and had given up all hope when, 
one morning, a letter came from Mr. Wal- 
lack, to the effect that he would see me 
the next day. This letter created excite- 
ment. I dressed myself carefully in all my 
best. Mother said, "Good luck to you/ 7 
and father, "Don't forget your playbills/ 7 
and off I went. I had always understood 
that Mr. "Wallack was one of our greatest 
76 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

actors, so I was a little nervous when I 
knocked at his office door. But the man- 
ner in which he received me put me at 
once at my ease. He shook me by the 
hand, and asked about his friend Copeland, 
saying he was always glad to meet any one 
from England, at which his son Lester re- 
marked (looking at me through an eye- 
glass) : "Yes, and there is little doubt as 
to where he comes from ; look at his hat 
and his boots." 

Mr. Wallack then asked me what I 
thought I could do best, and I explained 
to him that, although a young man, I had 
always played old men. I then presented 
my playbills, which he examined, aud, 
noticing that of "As You Like It," said : 
"Ah, I see you have been on for old Adam. 11 
I thought his words, "been on for old 
Adam 11 suggested a doubt of my ability to 
play it. Fortunately I had a newspaper 
clipping containing favorable mention of 
my performance of that part, and this I 
presented. It did not seem to impress 
him. At last he said : "Well, Mr. Blake 
plays the part with me. You, of course, 
77 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

never saw Blake." I was forced to admit 
that I had not. "Oh, a great actor ! " said 
Wallaek. And afterward, when I had seen 
Blake, I fully agreed with this opinion. 

Mr. Wallaek continued that he did not 
know what he could say to me, as his com- 
pany was very full, in fact, as he said, 
comprising almost every one of any note 
in the country. "My company is large," 
he said, "and expensive, and my theater 
small ; but if, as you say in your note, you 
are willing to place yourself under my 
direction, I will give you fifteen dollars 
a week to begin [strange coincidence ! the 
very sum which Mr. Morehouse told me I 
should at first receive] , and if I find you 
answer my purpose, why, in time I may do 
better by you." The twenty-five dollars 
a week which, according to Morehouse, 
would be the ultimate result of my exer- 
tions, seemed to rise before me. I thanked 
Mr. Wallaek for his kindness, assured him 
of the gratification it would give me to 
feel myself under so able a director, and 
bowed myself out. 

I scarcely know how I reached home. 
78 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

I rushed into the room where father and 
mother and my brother Ben were, shout- 
ing out in my exultation : "I am engaged 
by Wallack." "No," said my father. 
"Yes," I said, "and for three pounds a 
week." "I am devilish glad we came 
over," continued my father. My poor 
mother was anxious to know if it was 
owing to the playbills that I had achieved 
this wonderful success. 

In a few days a meeting of the company 
was called. Mr. Frederick Chippindale, 
who was to have played quite a long part 
in the afterpiece on the opening night, 
could not act on account of the death of 
his child. The name of the play was "A 
Phenomenon in a Smock Frock," and the 
part was Mr. Sowerby. In Mr. Chippindale's 
absence I was put on for this character, 
and in it I made my first appearance in 
New York, September 7, 1854. The per- 
formance was opened with the singing of 
"The Star-Spangled Banner," the company 
being discovered upon the stage at the 
rise of the curtain. There was a lady, 
Miss Matilda Phillips, who sang the last 
79 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

verse of the national song and afterward 
played in the last piece, in whom, even on 
this our first meeting, I at once felt much 
interest— a deep and lasting interest, 
which has continued to the present day 
and can never be effaced. 

The first night's performance seemed to 
please. The first piece was a comedy, 
"The Irish Heiress." I remember that 
after it Mr. Wallack was called before the 
curtain, and he made a speech thanking 
his patrons for their kind reception of the 
old favorites, and incidentally alluding to 
a gentleman from England who had yet 
to appear, and who, he hoped, would find 
a place in their affections. I was sorry he 
thus drew attention to me, as it interfered 
with my efforts. However, I got through 
tolerably well. Mr. Felix Vincent, who 
played the comedy part,— the principal 
one in the piece,— I thought very clever. 

As I saw more of the company my eyes 
were opened to its strength and individual 
ability. I had been associated, as boy and 
man, with all the great artists of the old 
country,— had seen giants individually,— 
80 




John Brougham. 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

but it had never been my good fortune to 
behold, in its entirety, such a company as 
this, including as it did William Rufus 
Blake, the elder Wallack, John Lester 
(known later as Lester Wallack), Charles 
Walcot, Sr., John Dyott, John Brougham, 
Laura Keene, Mrs. Blake, Mrs. Stevens, 
Mrs. Brougham, Humphrey Bland, Felix 
Vincent, and a host of others. Most of 
them had been associated year after year, 
and knew one another's style, and they 
played so well into one another's hands 
that the result was admirable. I do not 
think the old comedies were ever better 
played. I have of late mentioned the 
name of Blake and the names of other 
prominent members of this company, and 
I find many clever people of to-day who 
have never heard of those artists. "Are 
we so soon forgot when we are gone ? " 

In the early fifties John Brougham was, 
I think, the most popular actor in Amer- 
ica. Everybody interested in theatricals 
knew and liked him. He was the most 
happy extemporaneous speaker, I believe, 
I ever heard. The public was well aware 
6 81 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

of the fact, and in consequence had him 
before the curtain as frequently as possible. 
His speeches often proved to be the most 
enjoyable portion of the evening's per- 
formance. In the roles of gentlemanly 
Irishmen, such as Sir Lucius 0' Trigger in 
"The Rivals/' and A Gentleman from Ire- 
land in the play of that name, I considered 
him unapproachable. 

My father, mother, and Ben went to 
visit my brother George, who was then 
acting in Boston, so I had to provide my- 
self with a new abode. I was fortunate in 
being accommodated in the house of a Mr. 
James Smith, who lived in Marion Street. 
The Marion Street of 1854 was not as it 
is to-day. Many good families lived in 
Marion Street at that time. Mr. Wal- 
lace's house was in Crosby Street, and a 
charming home it was. Many a time the 
members of his company have met in his 
parlor to hear him read a new play, and 
they would always be invited to take a 
glass of wine and light refreshments at its 
conclusion. Bleecker Street, in those days, 
was a fashionable thoroughfare, and many 
82 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYEK 

of the finest people had their residences as 
far down- town as the Battery. While I 
was acting at the Broome Street house I 
used sometimes to walk up Broadway after 
rehearsal^ and upon reaching the region 
where are situated most of the theaters 
of to-day, would find myself compara- 
tively "out of town." To Harlem was a 
journey. 

I lived with Mr. Smith until I married, 
and I found him a charming person. He 
was a product of the times, not polished, 
but manly and good, a typical American 
of a class then common but now seldom 
seen— -a Democratic politician, a con- 
tractor, a fireman, and, in fact, "one of 
the boys." He used to keep his fireman's 
helmet hanging over his head where he 
slept, and his boots close by, so that he 
could jump into them at a moment's no- 
tice ; and when he heard an alarm of fire, 
in three leaps he was at the bottom of the 
stairs. He was never so much in his 
glory as when running "wid de machine." 
As was the custom in those days, he would 
take a basket on his arm and go person- 
83 



BECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYEK 

ally to Center Market, and there purchase 
all that was required for the household in 
the way of provisions. I occupied one of 
the best rooms in the house, and was al- 
ways admonished to help myself to any- 
thing and everything on his sideboard that 
I fancied. His breakfasts were like din- 
ners, and if I declined, after stuffing myself 
to a degree of discomfort, to take anything 
more to eat or drink, he would politely 
advise me : "Well, let it alone, you d— d 
Englishman." And for all this comfort 
and kindness I paid five dollars a week ! 
Such a mode of life would not be appreci- 
ated now, perhaps, but there was a great 
deal of plain, simple honesty about it, and 
much of real happiness, I am sure ; cer- 
tainly less excitement, for so many people 
then tried to live within their means. A 
person, in those days, possessed of one 
hundred thousand dollars was considered 
a rich man. There was at the time a 
native dislike for show and ostentation. 
Every official was dressed like his fellow - 
citizen in plain clothes, and such a thing 
as a liveried coachman or footman was 
84 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

never seen. I do not pretend to say that 
my views are those of many to-day. 

To me there was something very whole- 
some in the cnstoms of old New York in 
the days when first I saw it. The theatri- 
cal seasons were long, lasting about ten 
months, and a new piece was seldom 
played. The company was kept intact. 
The old comedies and standard dramas 
were always played, and the pieces being- 
familiar to all, consequently, the life of an 
actor then was an easy and delightful one. 
The patrons of the theater comprised the 
best families of New York, and the prin- 
cipal members were great favorites and, I 
think, very much respected. 

In those days Mr. John Lester— the 
Lester Wallack of after days— was spoken 
of as the handsomest man in New York, 
his only rival being Mr. George Jordan of 
Burton's Theater. Burton had a splendid 
company ; he was a host in himself, and 
had with him, besides George Jordan, such 
actors as Charles Fisher and Tom Johnson. 
Harry Placide also played each season, for 
a number of weeks, at Burton's Theater. 
85 



KECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYEE 

These theaters, with the Broadway, Mblo's 
Garden, Bowery, and Chatham, Barnum's 
Museum at Broadway and Ann Street, and 
the Chrysty Minstrels offered the only 
amusement of the kind then in New York. 
When Mr. Chippindale returned to the 
company he was assigned to his old parts, 
and consequently I did not get much fur- 
ther opportunity at that time. 

The Bateman children were playing at 
Mblo's Garden, and Mr. Wallack asked 
me if I would like to act with them for a 
week or two. I was very glad to do so, 
and played old Pickle in "The Spoiled 
Child," and a number of other parts, with 
them. After their engagement ended I 
returned to my old position at Wallack's. 
Thereafter the parts given me were of a 
minor description ; but I felt that most of 
my associates knew so much more about 
acting than I did that I ought to be satis- 
fied that I was at least a member of the 
Wallack Company. I used to take par- 
ticular pains in trying to do my utmost 
with every part for which I was cast, and 
had made up my mind to remain in New 
86 



BECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYEE 

York, however humble my position, rather 
than fill a more exalted one outside of the 
city, arguing with myself that if I had 
ability, New York was the place to gain 
a recognition of it. After all these years 
I have no reason to regret my decision. 
I began to achieve a reputation for my 
wigs, and the way I used to blend them— 
that is, join them to my forehead— when 
they were bald. Mr. Frank Kae of the 
company used to compliment me, saying 
he never saw any one who could match in 
a wig as I did. I remember when I was 
playing a very old man, a small part (but 
upon an occasion when Mr. Wallack was 
to be in his box), I put on one of my best 
wigs, and was particularly fortunate in 
the blending of it. When the first act 
was over, and we were all in the green- 
room, Mr. Wallack came in and compli- 
mented most of the people on their work. 
To me he said : "Mr. Stoddart, that is 
a beautiful wig of yours, and you have 
matched it in well ; but as the scene is an 
exterior and the other characters all had 
their hats on, it seems rather out of place 
87 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

for you to carry yours in your hand. Your 
next scene, I think, is an interior; the 
audience will then have ample opportunity 
of seeing what a beautiful wig it is." These 
remarks, having been addressed to me be- 
fore all the company, confused me some- 
what, and I put my hat on, at which Mr. 
Wallack said : "Oh, you need n't put it on 
here, old boy ; besides, you know, there are 
ladies in the green-room." I was sadly 
confused by these remarks, and soon re- 
moved myself from the green-room. 

In all these little mishaps and troubles 
I had a kind and sympathizing friend, 
Miss Phillips, of whom I have previously 
spoken. As far as I dared I began to be- 
come fond of her, and to pay her all the 
attention I could. Her position in the 
theater was considerably in advance of my 
own, added to which I thought her very 
handsome, and I knew that I was quite 
the reverse. "We were about of an age, and 
there the resemblance ended. I heard she 
was the principal support of her mother 
and brothers, and was domestic, a trait 
peculiarly to my liking. Before joining 
88 




Mary Taylor. 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

Wallack's Theater she had been a favorite 
at Mitchell's Olympic. The company there 
was for a long time a noted one in New 
York, playing the lighter order of enter- 
tainment, snch as light opera, burlesque, 
etc. I have met many old people in New 
York who would speak in the most glow- 
ing terms of Mitchell's Olympic and his 
remarkable company. Mitchell himself 
was a clever comedian, and his company 
included Charles Walcot, George Holland, 
Mr. Conover, Frank Chanfrau, Mary Tay- 
lor ("our Mary," as she was called), Miss 
Clark, Mrs. Isherwood, Mary Gannon, 
Matilda Phillips, and Miss Roberts. 

The Olympic Theater had ceased to 
exist before Mr. Wallack's career com- 
menced. Miss Mary Taylor and Miss 
Phillips were inseparable, almost like sis- 
ters, so I heard and saw a great deal of "our 
Mary." What a favorite she was ! In 
fact, she was the main attraction of the 
theater, and the talk of New York, in 
"The Daughter of the Regiment," in which 
she played with Mr. John Nickinson, an- 
other talented member of the company. 
89 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

This was one of her principal characters. 
She possessed a fine voice, and she made 
many songs popular in those days. I have 
no doubt there are many now living who 
can remember the play called "A Glance 
at New York," with Chanfrau and Mary 
Taylor as Mose and Miza. I believe there 
is not one member of that company alive 
to-day. 

Miss Phillips lived far from Wallack's 
Theater, and Mr. Chippindale, who was 
an old friend, was in the habit of escorting 
her to her home after the performance. 
I thought, therefore, that it would not be 
injudicious on my part to hang on to Chip- 
pindale ; so we would get out of the 
theater a little in advance, have a glass of 
ale together, and hurry back that he might 
meet the lady. After a time I got to be 
so frequently with both that I ventured to 
remark to "Chip," as he was familiarly 
called, that if I should be permitted to 
walk home with them, we might have an- 
other glass, or even more than one, after 
we had left our charge. Now, as Chip was 
fond of ale, he readily met my suggestion. 
90 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

He was a delightful companion, and many 
times we turned up at a good place in 
Bleecker Street, kept by a Mrs. Rocket, 
and after a glass of ale there we would, 
night after night, visit a certain basement 
near Broome Street, and there have coffee 
and cakes for twenty cents, Chip footing 
the bill one night and I the next. I shall 
always remember him with kindness j he 
was the first friend I had in New York. 
I fear I was rather ungrateful, for I began 
to plot how I might rid myself of his com- 
pany, terminate our joint attentions in 
seeing Miss Phillips home, and convince 
the lady that a single escort was all-suffi- 
cient, and that escort myself. So, one 
evening, "screwing my courage to the 
sticking-point," I approached her and 
asked to be permitted to see her home. 
"Why," she said, "I thought you had been 
doing so for some time." "Oh, yes," I re- 
plied ; "but please don't have Chip." She 
would not at first consent to his dismissal, 
but as Mr. Chippindale was a married man 
with a family, and, I think, began to see 
how the land lay with me, he soon after 
91 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

took his glass by himself, and left me in 
full possession. It was thus that I became 
acquainted with a dear good woman, my 
partner of forty years, a comfort and a 
blessing through all my life, until the time 
of great sorrow when I lost her (April 5, 
1892). 

An interesting member of Mr. Wallack's 
company at that time was Mr. Edward 
Sothern, who had adopted the stage-name 
of Douglas Stuart. He played the prin- 
cipal business after Lester. His oppor- 
tunities not being all that he could desire, 
at the end of the season, there being then 
a vacation of about eight weeks, he con- 
ceived the idea of forming a company of 
his own. With this in view, he spoke to 
me and a few others, wishing to procure 
our services. As I was reengaged for the 
next season at Wallack's, I was glad to fill, 
in this way, the time before my reopening. 
We visited Canada, opening at Bytown, 
now called Ottawa. As Sothern's main 
object in making the venture was to gain 
more experience, the pieces played were 
principally done for him, and even then I 
92 




George Holland. 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

considered him clever. I thought Bytown 
a pretty place. We also went to one or 
two minor towns in Canada. The business 
was tolerably good during the entire eight 
weeks, and we all enjoyed ourselves greatly 
during the trip, and had a jolly time. 

We returned to New York for the sea- 
son of 1855, during which many changes 
in the company took place. Mr. Blake 
went as stage-director to the Broadway 
Theater, managed by Mr. Marshall. Mr. 
Blake left rather suddenly, some time after 
our opening, and Mr. Harry Placide, who 
was living in retirement at Babylon, Long 
Island, was sent for and induced to play 
Mr. Blake's characters for the rest of the 
season. I think Placide was the best Sir 
Peter Teazle I ever saw, and he was inimi- 
table in his French parts in " Parents and 
Guardians," "The First Night," etc. 

Mr. George Holland, Mrs. Yernon, Mary 
Gannon, Mrs. John Hoey, and Georgina 
Hodgson were all newcomers during my 
second season. Miss Hodgson made her- 
self conspicuous by her able performance 
of Pocahontas, in the burlesque of that 
93 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

name by John Brougham, and also by 
leaving the city, after her name had been 
announced, without apprising the manage- 
ment of her intention. I was connected 
with the performance, and during the en- 
tire run it never went with such shouts of 
laughter as upon the night of her disap- 
pearance, when it was played by Brougham 
and Walcot without Pocahontas. 

Edmund Milton Holland at that time 
was a very little fellow, and went on in 
the piece as a "wee Indian." His father, 
George Holland, made him up for the part 
in a different manner at every perform- 
ance, tattooing his face with all sorts of 
devices, much to the amusement of the en- 
tire company. 

At the end of my second season Mr. 
Sothern had made arrangements to play 
at Halifax. I was now married, and both 
my wife and I were members of his com- 
pany. John T. Raymond also went with 
us, as low comedian. Harry Isherwood, 
Wallaek's scenic painter, a great friend 
of Sothern's, was also of the party. 
Isherwood was desirous to act logo, and 
94 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

so, to please him, Mr. Sothern put up 
"Othello." He did it for a joke, I think, 
for of all men I ever knew he was the fond- 
est of joking. Sothern played the Moor, 
and was imperfect in the words ; in the 
last scene he had a prompter concealed 
under Desdemontfs bed. Isherwood's Iago 
was truly comic,— as he himself presently 
knew,— for, when asked to repeat it, hav- 
ing received a letter begging him to do so 
(written, we all thought, by Sothern), he 
could not be persuaded to make a second 
venture. 

The English officers of the garrison at 
Halifax were patrons of the theater, and 
Sothern spent much time with them. A 
performance of "The Rivals" was given 
by the officers, and a good one, and I 
think it was owing to military interest 
that the season turned out well. After it 
was over our passages were arranged for 
return by the Eastern State, a steamer 
plying between Boston and Halifax. I 
dreaded this trip, remembering my former 
experiences on the water, but Mr. Sothern 
told me that if I would keep on deck, in 
95 



KECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYEE 

the open air, I should be all right. So 
we went on hoard after the performance, 
and were to sail early in the morning. 
Breakfast was announced, all of the com- 
pany being ready for it, and no time 
was lost in seeking the saloon. When 
I reached the table all the places were 
occupied. In a short time the stewardess 
came to me, saying she could now find a 
seat for me. The Eastern State was moving 
in an unsteady and unpleasant manner, so 
I thanked her, told her she need not trou- 
ble herself, and made for the deck. Eain 
was pouring, but, remembering Mr. Soth- 
ern's advice, I procured an umbrella and 
a camp-stool, determined to fight it out 
on deck. I only succeeded in getting 
drenched with rain, and was glad to re- 
turn to my state-room, which I did not 
again leave until we arrived in Boston. 

During Miss Laura Keene's career with 
Mr. Wallack she became the greatest 
favorite of his company and the chief at- 
traction of the house. I think she was 
largely indebted to Mr. Wallack for her 
popularity. She must, of course, always 
96 




John T. Raymond. 



BECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYEK 

have been talented, but it was her manager 
who developed her talent. He took infi- 
nite pains with her in everything she 
played, selecting pieces that he thought 
best suited to her ability, and the conse- 
quence was that her name became essential 
to every performance given. She would 
sit in front with Mr. Wallack at rehearsal, 
and he would consult her in almost every- 
thing. There soon came a time when there 
arose a very serious misunderstanding be- 
tween them, the result being that Miss 
Keene withdrew from the theater, much 
to its detriment both in an artistic and 
pecuniary sense. She went, I believe, to 
Baltimore. That Miss Keene acted hastily, 
and afterward regretted her action, there 
can be no doubt, for a number of the best 
patrons of the theater sent to Mr. Wallack 
a petition asking for her reinstatement. 
He was inflexible, and she never played 
at Wallack's again. 

Mrs. Sarah Conway for a time played 

most of the leading parts. It was not 

long, however, before Mrs. John Hoey 

came to the theater. She was the wife of 

7 97 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

the late John Hoey, once president of 
Adams Express Company, and the first to 
revolutionize matters regarding stage cos- 
tume. Her dresses were in good taste, 
and so handsome as to become almost the 
talk of the city. Mrs. Stoddart and I 
were reengaged for the season of 1856, my 
position in the theater being of so minor a 
character that I made application for Mrs. 
Stoddart only, and I received a courteous 
letter in reply. I had recently been mar- 
ried, and Mr. Wallack said he could not 
think of separating me from my wife, so 
he thought I had better remain. It does 
not seem so easy a matter now for man 
and wife to remain together in profes- 
sional life ; in fact, it seems to be almost 
the rule that they must go their separate 
ways, joint engagements not being thought 
by managers to be desirable. It so hap- 
pened, however, that neither of us rejoined 
Mr. Wallack. 

Late in 1855 Miss Laura Keene returned 

to New York and opened the Metropolitan, 

a theater in Broadway opposite to Bond 

Street, which she rechristened " Laura 

98 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

Keene's Varieties." That theater, which 
afterward became the Winter Garden, 
soon passed out of her hands, and a new 
one was built for her in Broadway, be- 
tween Bleecker and Houston streets. Mr. 
Wallack also made an arrangement with 
Mr. William Stuart, by which the latter 
was to occupy the Broome Street house 
during this season. Miss Keene wrote to 
us, offering a joint engagement for her new 
house, and as Mr. Wallack had, in conse- 
quence of his arrangement with Mr. Stuart, 
in a measure retired from active manage- 
ment, we felt at liberty to entertain her 
proposal. So, after communicating with 
Mr. Wallack, who was willing to release 
us, we entered on an engagement with 
Miss Keene. Mr. Trimble, who built her 
theater, should have had it ready by 
September, but it was late in November 
before the house was completed, and so 
the company was taken to Philadelphia 
and Baltimore in the meantime, returning 
to New York and opening at the new 
theater on November 18, 1856. The new 
house was beautiful. The opening play 
LofC. 99 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

was u As You Like It," and Miss Keene 
had gathered a capable working company, 
George Jordan being her leading man. 
The reception accorded to her and her 
associates was flattering. The dramatic 
critic of the New York "Herald," Mr. 
Edward G. P. Wilkins, produced a comedy 
in three acts at this theater on November 
24, 1856. He was a charming companion ; 
he frequently came behind the scenes, 
being a great favorite with the company. 
He was considered the most able dramatic 
writer of that time. His new comedy was 
called "Young New York," and it was a 
success. He died in New York in the 
spring of 1861. 

At the conclusion of her first season, 
Miss Keene's venture seemed to be as suc- 
cessful as her best friends could have 
wished, with every prospect of continued 
prosperity. The second season began with 
an introduction to New York theater-goers 
of Mr. Joseph Jefferson, who appeared as 
Doctor Pangloss in "The Heir-at-Law" and 
as Diggory in " The Specter Bridegroom." 
This was the first time I had the pleasure 
100 




Joseph Jefferson. 



EECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYEE 

of meeting him, although I had heard 
much of him from my wife, who, before 
her marriage, had acted with him in Bos- 
ton. I played Steadfast in the comedy and 
Nicodemus in the farce. Perhaps it is like 
" carrying coals to Newcastle " for me to 
record that Mr. Jefferson immediately 
captured his audience. I have since, on 
many occasions, had the pleasure of acting 
with Mr. Jefferson, and I now say, with 
all my heart, in the words of the charac- 
ter which he has made famous, "May he 
live long and prosper." Mr. Jefferson's 
career, I think, stands apart from all 
others. He is very little younger than 
myself, and our careers are somewhat 
similar 5 of course, I mean only through 
long servitude. In my early association 
with him we were both stock actors with 
Miss Laura Keene, and I had every op- 
portunity of seeing him in a great variety 
of characters, and in all thought him pre- 
eminent. His effects were Jeffersonian, 
and you were left very little in doubt of 
the actor's identity; but his renditions were 
all so free from claptrap and so thoroughly 
101 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYEB 

artistic that to rae, whether in serious 
matter, legitimate comedy, or farce, he 
was always delightful. 

I have frequently heard members of the 
profession regret that Mr. Jefferson con- 
fined himself to two or three parts,— in 
fact, almost to one,— and declare that he 
should have given the public new material. 
I do not think so. In my opinion, Mr. 
Jefferson is not only a great actor, but a 
good business man, and they do not often 
go together. He has made a classic of 
"Rip Van Winkle." I have watched his 
career in it with a great deal of interest. 
What other actor has ever played for so 
many years so profitably one part— with 
people more eager to see him in his ma- 
turity than ever? In my recent wander- 
ings I have heard expressed, by no small 
number, the hope that, as Mr. Jefferson, 
like myself, is no longer a boy, they might 
see him, before he leaves us, in "Rip." 
Posterity will ever link his name with Bip 
Van Winkle. 

In my younger days, while acting in 
England, I was associated with one of the 
102 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

best actors I think I have ever met, a Mr. 
Sydney Davis. He played everything, 
and everything he played was good ; and 
because it was good he remained all his 
life a soldier in the ranks. Versatility, I 
think, was the cause. Would Mr. Jeffer- 
son have attained his present position by 
constantly producing new material? I 
think not. 

Mrs. Stoddart was not with Miss Keene 
during her second season, but had ac- 
cepted an engagement with Mr. Duffield 
at the Mobile (Alabama) Theater. Mr. 
Wallack, who had retained me when he 
did not particularly require my services, 
but, as he said, in order not to separate 
me from my wife, had his revenge for our 
leaving him, since matters fell out so ad- 
versely that I found myself alone in New 
York and my wife by herself in the South. 
In consequence of the financial trouble of 
1858, business at the theater was not good, 
and the money paid to us was of such 
doubtful value that I felt anything but 
cheerful ; so that when Mrs. Stoddart 
wrote that an actor who had been engaged 
103 



RECOLLECTION'S OF iL PLAYER 

to play the second old men in Mr. Duf- 
fi eld's company (Humphrey Bland was 
playing the first old men) had disap- 
pointed the manager;, and asked if I would 
care to take the position, I immediately 
wrote that I would do so. As salaries 
were not promptly paid at Laura Keene's 
theater just then, I knew, or suspected, 
that if I told Mr. Lutz, our treasurer, that 
I was about to leave, my chances of get- 
ting any money would be small ; so I made 
known my plan to my brother George, and 
said that I intended to leave on a Satur- 
day night. I forget the play then current, 
but my part in it was unimportant, and I 
knew that my absence would not distress 
the management. As I depended on my 
week's salary to get to Montgomery, 
which was my destination, I was much 
disturbed when Mr. Lutz informed me 
he could give me only a portion of it ; 
but I was determined to make the start. 
My brother offered to break to Miss 
Keene the news of my departure after 
I had gone, but I thought this would be 
unpleasant for him, and so I addressed a 
104 





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Mrs. J. H. Stoddart. 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYEE 

note to that lady, endeavoring to explain 
that I had missed Mrs. Stoddart much, 
that a position had been offered to me at 
the Mobile and Montgomery theaters, 
where she was playing, that I had deter- 
mined to join her there, and that I hoped 
Miss Keene would forgive me. When I 
rejoined her, years afterward, she told me 
that she did not think the manner of my 
leaving her had been either considerate or 
honorable, but as I had been married only 
a short time, and was naturally desirous to 
be with my wife, she would forget and 
forgive ; and she added that if my married 
life had been of a longer duration, perhaps 
I should not have made so precipitate a 
departure. We were afterward with her 
for a long time, and she treated us with 
great kindness and consideration. 

Mr. Duffield, previous to opening in 
Mobile, had a two weeks' season at Mont- 
gomery, Alabama, and there I joined the 
company. The journey was a long one in 
those days ; I was nearly a week on the 
way. I am not sure whether, at that time, 
the railroad provided sleeping accommo- 
105 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

elation, but I am sure that, if there were 
any sleeping-cars, I was not in a way to 
avail myself of their comforts. My earlier 
theatrical experience in Scotland had 
taught me not to stand upon trifles, and 
I knew that I should reach Montgomery 
and my wife, if I were obliged to walk 
every step of the way. In fact, a little 
walking would have been a comfort at 
times during that journey, for on several 
occasions I found myself, at night, curled 
up on a hard seat in a badly ventilated 
car, and every way wretched. 

On reaching my destination I found 
Mrs. Stoddart delighted with the South. 
Humphrey Bland was the stage-manager, 
and Mr. and Mrs. George Pauncefort the 
leading man and woman. The company 
was a good one. It was arranged that I 
should begin as Max ITarJcaway in "London 
Assurance." My wife brought the part to 
me, and with it a letter telling me of the 
death of my mother— a sufferer for years, 
without hope of recovery, from the dread- 
ful malady of cancer. The letter told me 
how thankful she was to be released, and 
106 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

how, at the end, she had blessed her three 
sons and my father, who had stood by her 
bedside, and had desired her blessing to 
be conveyed to her "boys " in America ; 
and while expressing the assurance that 
she knew the separation would be but 
brief, she passed away. A better woman 
was never "called to a better place. Of 
course I had expected this news, and when 
I thought of her years of misery, I ought 
to have felt relieved that she had done 
with it all ; but I could not feel so— I cried 
like a child ; and it was in this state of 
mind that I had to take up my new char- 
acter and endeavor to learn the words for 
the following night— a breezy, laughing, 
jolly part for which I was in but a poor 
humor. Many actors have been similarly 
placed, and upon like occasions have had 
to take up a laughing part with a sad and 
heavy heart. 

I have omitted to say that my father's 
coming to America so late in life proved 
to be a mistake. He played for a short 
time in New York, Boston, and Philadel- 
phia. He had acted with Miss Agnes 
107 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYEK 

Kobertson before she became the wife of 
Dion Boucicault, and when a company 
was made up by Mr. Boucicanlt to play 
in New Orleans, my father was engaged in 
it. At the end of the New Orleans season 
he and my mother returned to Liverpool. 
I never saw my mother again. 

At the end of two successful weeks we 
left Montgomery for Mobile, our manager, 
Mr. Duffield, being with us. We went by 
boat, upon which we had comfortable quar- 
ters. Mr. Duffield, Mrs. Stoddart, and I 
had a little table by ourselves in the din- 
ing-room, and it groaned with everything 
good. I ate of things that I had scarcely 
ever heard of before. I recall an incident 
showing the cupidity of the "darky wait- 
er" of the day — his desire especially to 
serve those who Were liberal in tips. Mr. 
Duffield, before ordering the dinner, took 
from his pocket a bright new dollar, care- 
fully placing the same on the table, in 
sight of our waiter. The effect was magi- 
cal ; the waiter could not do enough for 
us, and was assiduous in loading our table 
with the best the boat afforded. After we 
108 




Agnes Robertson (Mrs. Boucicault). 



BECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYEE 

had finished our dinner, Mr. Duffield, in 
an absent-minded manner, carelessly took 
up his dollar and put it back into his 
pocket, to the great chagrin of the ebony 
attendant. 

Ben De Bar, who managed the St. 
Charles Theater in New Orleans, was the 
ostensible director of the Mobile house, 
Duffield being his agent. All the stars 
that played with De Bar came to Mobile. 
We had Harry Placide ; Charlotte Cush- 
man, with whom I had acted as a boy at 
Alexander's Theater in Glasgow, and who, 
although I had not seen her since, was 
gracious enough to remember me j and Mr. 
and Mrs. James W. Wallack, Jr., who 
were stock stars, and played a long en- 
gagement in "The Man in the Iron Mask," 
"Winter's Tale," "Cymbeline," "Ion," and 
many other legitimate plays. 

It was three years before the war, and 
the South, theatrically, was in a flourishing 
condition. We played to fashionable and 
appreciative audiences. Mme. La Vert 
had her private box at the theater ; she it 
was who was known as the "Queen of the 
109 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

South,'- and the people of Mobile would 
say with pride that she was the only South- 
ern lady who, while in England, was re- 
ceived by Queen Victoria. Mme. La Yert 
gave several receptions, during our season, 
to the principal members of our company 
and the society people of Mobile. The 
city, at that time, was very beautiful, in- 
cluding a lovely driveway, known as the 
Shell Road, on which many of our people 
were often invited to drive. Although 
the season was midwinter, flowers bloomed 
and all was summer-like. It being my first 
experience in the South, this region seemed 
to me an enchanted land. Each of the 
principal members of the company was 
the recipient of a benefit, and all had 
" bumpers," Mme. La Yert exerting her- 
self to make each a social success. Our 
season ended, Mr. Dufneld spoke to us re- 
garding a reengagement for the next 
season, but we hoped that we might ar- 
range to be in New York. We went by 
boat to New Orleans, remaining a few 
days to view that city. One of the finest 
and fastest steamboats at that time plying 
110 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

between St. Louis and New Orleans was 
called the Pennsylvania, and we were for- 
tunate in securing a passage on her. It 
was the first time I had ever seen such a 
floating palace. The trip to St. Louis 
occupied a week, and I think that during 
that time we saw all that could be seen of 
life on the Mississippi. The service on the 
boats of this line was excellent ; the table 
offered all the delicacies of the season ; 
there was music and constant card-playing 
—in fact, every species of gambling. It 
was our good fortune, also, to witness and 
participate in a Mississippi River steam- 
boat race— a thing of which we had read, 
but which we had never seen. No sooner 
had we overhauled another steamer simi- 
lar to our own than we went at it, screech- 
ing and roaring, the crew and passengers, 
even the ladies, dismissing all thought of 
danger, and only anxious to keep our boat 
going and to beat her rival. With this in 
view, everything in the way of fuel that 
could possibly increase her speed was 
thrown into the furnaces— wood, fat, tar, 
anything that could be reached. It was 
111 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

a sight to see the negroes, stripped to the 
waist, with the glare of the fires on their 
faces, and to hear the yells and shouts from 
the boats, as either seemed to gain a slight 
advantage. For some distance the steam- 
ers were so close that an agile person might 
have stepped from one to the other. At 
last the Pennsylvania forged ahead, and 
even now I can hear the cheers of our 
people as we left our antagonist far be- 
hind. Not long after this I learned that 
the Pennsylvania had been blown up in a 
similar race. 

This was our first and only protracted 
stay in the extreme South. I had no op- 
portunity of witnessing the evils of slavery, 
but I did see much domestic comfort among 
the colored people, and much content and 
apparent happiness. I had not, at that 
time, been long from the old country, and, 
in common with most others, had de- 
voured Mrs. Harriet Beecher Stowe's 
a TJncle Tom's Cabin " ,• and, although my 
experience was limited, I was glad to find 
many negroes whose position and sur- 
roundings were more comfortable and 
112 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

happy than I had supposed them to be. 
In many instances that came within my 
observation, slaves were treated with great 
consideration by their masters. In fact, 
one Sunday in Mobile Mrs. Stoddart and 
I were surprised at seeing two stylish 
equipages driven by colored boys, and 
with them their "girls." They were all 
" dressed to kill," and upon inquiry I was 
told that the "boss" often allowed his 
"boy " the use of his carriage to take a spin 
with his sweetheart on the Shell Road. I 
recall that the colored servants at the 
house where we lived were frequently in- 
vited to go to the theater, and they were 
never denied the privilege by their em- 
ployers. 

The trip from New Orleans to St. Louis 
before the war is a portion of my Amer- 
ican experience never to be forgotten. 

On our arrival in St. Louis we found 
Mrs. Henry Farren (now Mrs. Erving 
Winslow), formerly Miss Kate Eeignolds, 
an old friend of my wife's, managing one 
theater, and Ben De Bar the other. We 
went to see both, and, after spending a 

s 113 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYEE 

short time with the Farrens, left for Chi- 
cago. Mr. and Mrs. Florence were then 
playing in the latter city, and we saw 
their performance. We then set out for 
New York, where, on our arrival, we 
found everything verdant and summer- 
like, and having left a similar state of 
things in the South, it seemed to us strange 
to have escaped the winter. Although 
we were glad to be at home again, there 
seemed little chance of remaining, so we 
accepted engagements, for the next season, 
with Mr. John T. Ford at Baltimore, and, 
in the meantime, went to Montreal for the 
summer. Mr. Buckland, who had man- 
aged the Montreal Theater for many years, 
was accustomed to begin his seasons at 
the close of the theatrical season in New 
York. He was, therefore, always able to 
engage prominent people. Charles Fisher 
filled most of his vacations in this way. 
All the stars played in Montreal. Mrs. 
Buckland, formerly Kate Horn, played 
most of the leading business, while Miss 
Kate Reignolds, D. H. Harkins, W. J. 
Le Moyne, Charles Hale, George W. Stod- 
114 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

dart, B. T. Ringgold, and many other 
well-known performers were members of 
the company. Charles Mathews was popu- 
lar, and often acted there, as did also 
Charles Dillon. English actors were the 
favorites. There was a change of bill 
every night, and so the work was heavy. 
Mr. Mathews had a charming personality 
—all the company liked him ; but the work 
with him was more arduous than with any 
one else, as he generally put on three 
pieces a night. Yet the Montreal season 
was thought to be most desirable, enabling 
those who had saved money during the 
winter to hold on to their savings, and 
those who had not to— well, to live. 
Montreal is a pleasant city. The audi- 
ences, in those days, were responsive and 
the people were friendly. Mr. Buckland 
always claimed that the weather there 
was delightfully cool throughout the sum- 
mer months, but as, when playing long 
parts, the actor would usually be most 
uncomfortable, I doubted the veracity of 
this statement. My brother George played 
walking gentlemen and juvenile business 
115 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

with Buckland the season before I went 
there, and, when I turned np at the 
theater, they told me they were glad to 
see me, if only for "my son's sake." This 
mistake was made because they took me 
for the father of my brother, perhaps be- 
cause he was playing juvenile parts and I 
was playing old men. I thought it pru- 
dent not to undeceive them j besides, as 
from my boyhood I had been accustomed to 
being called "Old Stoddart," I had become 
reconciled to my supposed antiquity. 
Buckland's season having ended, we re- 
turned to New York, and from there went 
to Baltimore to enter on our engagement 
with John T. Ford. Edwin Booth was 
the first attraction. This was the first 
time I had ever met him, but I had the 
pleasure of acting with him afterward at 
the Winter Garden in New York. He 
played a long time in Baltimore that 
season, and I acted with him in all his 
plays. For a person so eminent and so 
greatly admired, he was the most gentle, 
unassuming, unostentatious man I had 
ever met. I had not been much in tragedy 
since my younger days with Copeland in 
116 




Edwin Booth. 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

Liverpool and Alexander in Glasgow. So 
when I was obliged to tackle Polonius,Bra- 
bantio, Gloster, in "King Lear/' etc., I 
fonnd the study difficult. During this 
season I participated in an exceedingly in- 
teresting performance of "Richard III," 
with Edwin Booth as Bichard, and his 
younger brother, John Wilkes Booth, as 
Richmond. Both performances were su- 
perb. I shall never forget the fight be- 
tween Bichard and Bichmond in the last 
act, an encounter which was terrible in its 
savage realism. 

"The Tempest" was produced during 
this season, and had quite a long run, 
Mr. William DavLdge being specially en- 
gaged for Caliban. Mr. Burton played an 
engagement, and we had professionals 
with fame : John E. Owens, John Sleeper 
Clarke, and William Wheatley— the lat- 
ter from the Arch Street Theater, Phil- 
adelphia. Mr. Ford often sent us, to 
support the above actors, to Washington 
and Alexandria, one night in one place 
and the next in the other, according to 
our relative positions in the various pieces. 

Our season was nearly over when Mr. 
117 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

Dion Boucicault and his wife, Agnes 
Robertson, came. I was cast for impor- 
tant parts in all their plays, and, I suppose, 
must have acquitted myself satisfactorily, 
as Mr. Boucicault spoke to me toward the 
end of his engagement, telling me of his 
intention to build a theater in New York, 
and offering to engage Mrs. Stoddart and 
me in his company. He said that his 
theater would be ready in the following 
autumn, and I told him we should be 
pleased to accept his offer, provided there 
was a certainty that the theater would be 
completed by the time specified. Mr. 
Ford was desirous that we should return 
to his house, and I did not wish to decline 
a renewal of the Baltimore engagement 
until I saw my way clear for the future. 
On Boucicault's assurance that his theater 
would open as soon as Mr. Ford's, I closed 
the engagement with him. Although 
we were comfortable in Baltimore, Balti- 
more was not New York. Moreover, we 
had been absent from the latter city for 
two years ; our home was there, and we had 
been counting the days till we should re- 
118 



KECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

turn to it. Mrs. Boucicault, who had acted 
so much with my father, was kind to me 
during these days. On one occasion she 
said to me, in the hearing of Mr. Bouci- 
cault : "Mr. Stoddart is very good in this 
part, and he puts me in mind of his father." 
I thought it a great compliment. I had 
seen my father when he was acting with 
her in some of these pieces, and had ad- 
mired his acting, not altogether, I hope, 
from the fact that he was my parent. Mr. 
Boucicault caused me to feel a little less 
cheerful by remarking that, in his opinion, 
my principal fault lay in the fact that I 
was "always the same" in everything I 
did. "Stoddart," said he, "is always Stod- 
dart." He then said that an artist— a 
true artist— should sink his personality, 
ever leaving the audience in doubt as to 
his identity. There was some truth, I 
suppose, in his remarks regarding "Stod- 
dart always being Stoddart " ; but having 
been a stock actor all my life, and having, 
as a stock actor, of necessity played many 
different kinds of roles, it was not very 
gratifying to be told that I turned up the 
119 



KECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYEK 

same old six and eightpence on every oc- 
casion. I took this criticism to heart, and 
tried hard to metamorphose myself some- 
what in accordance with it. 

That my efforts at change, at least in my 
personal appearance, were not altogether 
successful, the following incident may 
serve to illustrate. At the old Union 
Square Theater, during the run of "Fer- 
reol," in which I played Martial, a game- 
keeper who has committed a murder, there 
is a fine trial scene, in which another person 
is accused of the crime. The gamekeeper, 
during this scene, is seated down the stage. 
He has not many words to say, but can, by 
facial expression, convey much to the au- 
dience. On the first night I put on a 
heavy beard. After the performance 
Miss Ida Vernon, who had seen the piece 
from the front, said to me : "Oh, Mr. Stod- 
dart, what did you wear that abominable 
beard for t It took away all your expres- 
sion." The next night the gamekeeper 
had been shaved. 

Again, when we played "Alabama" at 
the Madison Square Theater, I was Colonel 
120 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

Preston. I remember discussing the mat- 
ter with my wife and children one even- 
ing before the opening. "How do you 
think you will be in your Southern dia- 
lect? " said one. "Well, I don't know," I 
replied. "You know I have been in Mo- 
bile?" "Well," said my son, "you can 
alter your face a little this time, anyway. 
As this character is a colonel and a South- 
erner, why not appear for once in a mus- 
tache ?" And so I was persuaded to wear 
one, thinking that it would alter me and 
be much in character. I made Preston a 
very old man, wearing a bald white wig 
and a heavy white mustache. Before the 
production I dressed at home, as was my 
custom, and presented myself in costume 
to my family. "By Jove ! " said my son, 
"I should n't know you." I believed him, 
for I scarcely knew myself. Upon the open- 
ing night, and before the curtain went up, 
I had adjusted my wig and mustache, when 
Mr. Augustus Thomas, the author of the 
play, came into my room. "Ah, governor," 
he was just beginning, when he noticed my 
make-up. "Good Lord ! " said he, "what 
121 



KECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

have you got on your face ! " I ventured 
to explain that my family were of the 
opinion, which had also lately become my 
own, that in every part I undertook I 
always looked the same, and that " Ala- 
bama n presenting a favorable opportunity 
to alter my face a little, I thought it ad- 
visable to wear the mustache. Mr. Thomas 
would have none of it, and insisted that I 
should take it off, saying : "God bless you ! 
the people want to see you just as you 
are." So off it came. 

I have often seen one or the other of my 
associates thoroughly disguised in acting, 
so that recognition was difficult. I am 
afraid, though, I should have to change 
myself to a great extent before I could 
conceal my identity. It has been my good 
fortune to meet most of the really great 
men and women of my profession, and I 
recall that many of them had unmistak- 
able "mannerisms" and marked person- 
alities ; some of them were wonderfully 
talented, but no one of them ever left the 
observer for a moment in doubt as to in- 
dividuality. So I have tried not to worry 
122 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

over the fact that I am so much like 
myself. 

The Baltimore season closed and we 
returned to New York. The new theater 
for Mr. Boucicault, if it had been built, 
would have stood near the spot where now 
stands Keith's Theater, formerly the Union 
Square. I saw Mr. Boucicault, shortly 
after we arrived, standing on the ground, 
and he called my attention to what he 
termed the great desirability of the loca- 
tion. The theater was not built, but in- 
stead of a new theater he reconstructed 
an old one,— the Metropolitan,— which he 
called the Winter Garden. The interior 
of this house was made much smaller and 
was wonderfully improved. The company 
was a fine one, including Joseph Jefferson, 
Tom Johnson, Harry Pearson, Dion Bou- 
cicault, Mrs. John Wood, Agnes Robertson, 
Sara Stevens, and others. The theater 
opened with "Dot," followed by "Smike," 
—a dramatization of Charles Dickens's 
story of " Nicholas Niekleby," — and then 
came the "Octoroon." Matters did not 
progress altogether smoothly. Mrs. John 
123 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

Wood had a misunderstanding and with- 
drew ; then Mr. Boucicault had trouble, 
and he and Miss Robertson retired to join 
Laura Keene. Mr. Jefferson then took 
hold, directing the affairs of the theater 
for some time. This theater (the Winter 
Garden) was managed, at various times, 
while I continued a member of the com- 
pany, by Mr. William Stuart and Mr. 
"Black" Jackson. I remained at the 
Winter Garden for about two years, acting 
with Edwin Booth, Charlotte Cushman, 
Barney Williams, Edward A. Sothern, 
Frank Chanfrau, and others. 

During this time we had saved a few 
hundred dollars, and, Scotchman-like, I 
had made up my mind, as soon as circum- 
stances would permit, to try and buy a 
home for ourselves. Miss Julia Gould, a 
professional friend of my wife's, had bought 
land at Macomb's Dam, near High Bridge, 
which at that time was far out of town. 
Here she had intended to build, but cir- 
cumstances had prevented her doing so, 
and we bought the property. I went to 
look at it, and was delighted with the loca- 
124 




Frank Chanfrau. 



EECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYEK 

tion. I think I went to view it every day 
for several months, gloating over our new 
purchase, the site of our prospective home. 
There was an old woman living in a 
shanty on a lot next to ours who was most 
anxious to sell. 

After my mother's death my father had 
again come to America, and was living 
with us in Hudson Street at the corner of 
Leroy. Many and many a time have we 
walked together to the High Bridge prop- 
erty, admired it, and then walked back. 
My father, in his sanguine way, would say : 
" Jim, if you can only raise enough money 
to secure that old woman's lot, you will 
have an ideal home, and I don't see why 
you cannot act and live in it all the year 
round. The Eighth Avenue cars will take 
you a long way out, and then the walk for 
the rest of the way is trifling. I have n't 
forgotten my trade, my boy [father, it 
will be remembered, had been apprenticed 
to a carpenter] , and I '11 assist in building 
your house." I had agreed with the old 
woman on a price for her property, my 
father had prepared a plan for a house, 
125 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

and we were very enthusiastic and con- 
fident. In a most cheerful frame of mind, 
away we went to select a site for the house. 

My father had just finished pacing off 
the number of feet when there appeared 
upon the scene an uncouth young person, 
who said to my father : "Look here, old 
man, what are you doing?" My father 
said : "Jim, you had better talk to him." 
I endeavored to explain that it was our 
intention to build a small house, but he 
interrupted me with : "Yes, I have been 
watching you both bobbing around here 
for some time and trying to get my mother 
to sell you her lot ; but that lot ain't hers, 
it ? s mine, and it ain't for sale. You will 
have a high old time if you try to put up 
any house near me. And if I find you and 
that old scalawag "—indicating my father 
— "coming around my mother, trying to 
get that lot away from me, I '11 put a 
bullet into the pair of you." 

I do not remember our reply to this 

polite young gentleman, but I do recall 

that we lost little time in leaving High 

Bridge and its beautiful surroundings. 

126 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYEft 

My father, when we had reached Eighth 
Avenue, said, his views regarding the 
desirability of High Bridge as a residential 
district in the meantime having completely 
changed : " Jim, I don't think it will do j 
that fellow means what he says. Besides, 
it is really a long way out. I don't see how 
you could possibly act and live so far from 
the theater." How characteristic of the 
man ! Some years after I sold the lots to 
Mr. Charles Hale, in those days a well- 
known actor. 

I had, however, no intention of giving 
up the idea of acquiring a home. It so 
happened that one morning soon after- 
ward we read in the "Herald" an at- 
tractive advertisement from which it 
appeared that a Mr. William Elton had 
purchased a portion of the estate of Gou- 
verneur Morris, of the well-known New 
York family of that name. This he had 
laid out into lots, which he proposed sell- 
ing "on the instalment plan." He called 
his property "Wilton," and it comprised 
about five or six acres of land situated 
between One Hundred and Thirty-sixth 
127 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

and One Hundred and Thirty -eighth 
streets, and bounded on the east by what 
is now the Boulevard and on the west by 
St. Ann's Avenue, then known as Cherry 
Lane. Through it, at that time, also 
flowed a pretty little stream, which has 
now become Brook Avenue. 

Mrs. Stoddart and I went out to see Mr. 
Elton. He at once recognized my wife. 
He was associated with Mr. Strong, a pub- 
lisher doing business in Nassau Street, 
and had been one of the constant patrons 
of Mitchell's Olympic Theater in the old 
days, and therefore he remembered my 
wife and all the Olympic favorites. 

I thought myself in luck, he met us so 
pleasantly. I made known to him my 
plan, and was advised to take six lots in 
One Hundred and Thirty- eighth Street. 
He would let me have them, he said, on 
the crest of the hill overlooking Port 
Morris, the cream of the property. Mr. 
Elton walked with us to show the lots. I 
do not think I had ever seen a more beau- 
tiful site. The time was spring ; the roads 
and lanes were lined with cherry-trees, all 
128 



ZMCXI-OSS 



OLYMPIC EXTRA, 

ARRIVAL OF THE KIAGS OF EUROPE. 



MONDAY, IlAtf 15th, 1848. 



FOREIGN INTELLIGENCE, . MITCHELL'S 

Theatre. 

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SCIENTIFIC INTELLIGENCE. 




VRRIVAL OF THE 



jjp-Qlyiiipic Extra ! °z£L»£Z- -»-»*-—*-.». 



fh« naw E«=. Ct]*i* WV»«»ta. «u lo-jn? SM 



LAVATER 

THE PHYSIOGNOMIST. 



MKOULAf. ACCIDEVT.- 



Pas de Danuhc...... J j..»»SIis3 Partin^d 



5T—--1;:;;. » tl= ,. ^^u^ >, 



Olympic Extra! 

UOIODKCBa THE 
drrhal of lite Kings of Europt ! ! 



IWUkmbii^niia^diadiaansjSK- 






HUNTIM A TURTLE ! 



La Sjlphide by .Miss Partington 

L.ove & Murder!! 

3ilP«rea » Btttdtr..).,. 



• —-*«.«— wi-k. 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

in bloom. Gouverneur Morris's mansion 
stood on the right and Mr. Crane's villa 
on the left, with the little St. Ann's 
Church near by. The Brother Islands 
showed in full view in the Sound. It was 
all very beautiful, and a sight long to be 
remembered. It was from here that we 
saw the Great Eastern when she came to 
America after her first trip. 

We lost no time in buying the property. 
I think we were to pay two hundred and 
fifty dollars per lot. As we had only one 
hundred dollars, Mr. Elton kindly agreed 
to accept that amount, and to receive the 
rest in instalments, giving us a little book 
in which he would credit the sums we 
should pay as the payments were made. 
This was in the spring of 1859. We went 
home rejoicing, and week after week I 
journeyed out to Wilton and gave Mr. 
Elton as much money on account as I 
could spare. My wife had a friend who 
had advised us to build, and he offered to 
meet the payments necessary for that pur- 
pose as they fell due, taking a mortgage 
on the property as security. I availed 
9 129 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

myself of his kind offer, and made my con- 
tracts for building. I was to pay two 
thousand dollars for the work. I also 
made a contract to dig a well, at seventy- 
five cents a foot for excavating dirt and 
five dollars a foot if excavation should 
have to be made through rock. When the 
house was under way and the first pay- 
ment due, my wife's friend wrote to say 
that circumstances would make it impos- 
sible for him to advance the money as 
agreed, and at the same time word was 
sent to us that after digging out a few feet 
of earth the contractor had encountered 
rock in the well. Here was disappoint- 
ment. I thought my second attempt to 
secure a home was not only a failure, but 
also that I should find myself deeply in 
debt. But " it 's a long lane that has no 
turning," and honesty of purpose usually 
comes out all right in the end. 

On explaining our position to Mr. Elton, 
he told us to go ahead with our house and 
that he would foot the bills. He did so, 
and thus, in the spring of 1860, we were 
enabled to move into our new home. 
130 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

I was happy in being able in a small 
way to repay Mr. Elton for his kindness, 
for I was instrumental in bringing others 
of my profession to Wilton. Milnes Le- 
vick bought property and built there, as 
did also Edwin Eddy, Mark Smith, Henry 
F. Daly, Mr. and Mrs. France, and others. 
I being the pioneer, Mr. Elton gave me 
the credit of bringing them all to his 
property. We lived in Wilton for seven 
years, part of my Winter Garden career, 
and a great part of the time while I was 
with Laura Keene and Mrs. John Wood. 

The journey from the theater to my 
home was long and in those days tedious. 
It took an hour and a half to reach Wil- 
ton by way of the Third Avenue street- 
cars from Bleecker Street to Harlem 
Bridge, which was, of itself, in the old 
horse-cars, quite a journey, added to which 
was the discomfort of frequently having 
to stand up all the way. On reaching the 
bridge, the worst of our journey was yet 
to come, for, there being then no means of 
conveyance on the other side of the river, 
we had a walk of about a mile and a half 
131 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

before reaching our house. I thought very 
little of it at that time, but now, as I look 
back upon those days, I wonder how we 
ever accomplished the task. We had to 
face this journey in all sorts of weather. 
Mrs. Stoddart, for a time, also was obliged 
to endure a like hardship ; but as my posi- 
tion improved, we decided that it was 
better she should leave the stage, and so 
thereafter I trudged up the road alone. 
In all weathers, by moonlight, in dark- 
ness, in rain and snow, for seven years, I 
nightly pursued my pilgrimage from the 
theater down-town and up this roadway. 
I was resolved that nothing should stand 
in the way of accomplishing my purpose 
of having a home of my own, and not be- 
ing able to afford it in the city, this was 
the best thing I could do. 

During this time I encountered two 
very disagreeable experiences. One was 
in the month of March, 1862. I was with 
Laura Keene. and on one night there was 
a tremendous snow-storm. After the per- 
formance, the storm had become so fierce 
and the snow so deep that no cars ran 
132 












Laura Keene. 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

upon the Third Avenue line. I stood with 
Charles Peters, James G. Burnett, and 
Miss Couldock, who all lived in Yorkville, 
at the corner of Bleecker Street and the 
Bowery, waiting, but in vain, for a car. 
At last we started to walk, hoping a car 
would overtake us ; but none came, and we 
kept on until we reached Yorkville, look- 
ing as though we had arrived from the 
arctic regions. We saw Miss Couldock to 
her home, and Burnett and Peters did all 
they could to persuade me to remain with 
them until the morning. I knew, how- 
ever, that my wife would be worrying 
about me, so I pushed on and walked the 
remainder of the distance to Wilton. I 
arrived at home at four o'clock in the 
morning, and was a sight to behold. I 
had on a loose talma coat, which stood 
out as stiff as a board, and my hair and 
eyebrows were covered with ice. After 
having taken a glass . of hot grog, I felt 
little the worse for my venture, although 
many people would think it an undertak- 
ing to walk from Bleecker Street to One 
Hundred and Thirty- eighth Street, even 
133 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYEE 

on a pleasant day. The next morning the 
sun came out in all his glory, the sky 
cleared, and soon scarcely a vestige of the 
storm was to be seen. 

On another occasion during my stay at 
Wilton, while I was going home on a dark 
night, I heard footsteps approaching me 
from behind, a thing that always made 
me uncomfortable. I accelerated my 
speed, and so did the person following me. 
It was so dark and. lonely that I did not 
know exactly what might occur, and I 
thought I would get rid of my pursuer by 
crossing to the other side of the street. 
He dogged my footsteps, however, never 
speaking a word, nor did I, until we came 
to Cherry Lane and the burying-ground 
of St. Ann's Church. Then he crossed 
over to my side of the way and approached 
nearer. I must say I felt very creepy. 
He was tall, with a pale face, and he wore 
a slouched hat, and had his arms crossed 
upon his breast, his hands in the inner 
pockets rattling something that sounded 
like keys. For some time he did not 
speak, but at last he said, "You are not 
134 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

afraid of me, are you ? " I felt my hair 
gradually rising, but managed to say that 
as I had never done any one any wrong, 
I ought not to fear. He then told me he 
had been confined in an asylum, and that 
people thought him mad, but that he was 
not. I now made sure that the supposed 
keys were fetters. However, by this time 
I had reached my own gate, which, as I 
opened, he tried to enter. I succeeded in 
getting inside and closing the gate, but 
he still persisted in endeavoring to get in. 
I told him that he could not, as he would 
frighten my wife. "Ask her if I can't 
come in," he said. I eluded him, however, 
the door of the house was opened, I bolted 
in, and quickly fastened the door. For 
more than an hour he walked up and down 
on the piazza, to our great discomfort. 
My wife's brother, who was visiting us, and 
was a strong fellow, who had been a num- 
ber of years at sea, and therefore bolder 
than I was, volunteered to get rid of the 
intruder, and, going out with a stout stick, 
drove him away. Next morning we 
learned that the houses of two of our 
135 



KECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYEB, 

neighbors had been broken into and 
robbed, and although we had no positive 
proof, we suspected that my road com- 
panion was the burglar. 

This was my early experience of "Wilton. 
In time the place grew a little, Mr. Le- 
vick building next to me, Mr. Eddy below 
him, and Mr. France putting up a house, 
as did Mr. Daly. Mark Smith sold his 
lots. There were others of the theatrical 
profession who located there, and the place 
came to be known locally as " Actorsville." 
In the course of time my cottage became, 
in its modest way, a beautiful place. I 
planted trees and many shrubs and vines, 
and had a little orchard of dwarf pears, 
and a trellis of grapes around three sides 
of the house. Moreover, the position of 
itself was so rural you could have imagined 
yourself miles and miles from New York. 
My two little chaps were born here. The 
house stood on a hill overlooking the 
Sound, and, despite the long tramp from 
Bleecker Street, I always felt well repaid 
for my fatigue by seeing the light in the 
window which served as a beacon to guide 
136 




William Mitchell. 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

me to the home I had struggled so hard to 
obtain and so greatly loved. 

That I was the owner even of so modest 
an estate filled me with pride. I thought 
I should never leave it ; but ah, how little 
we know of the future ! Mrs. Stoddart's 
health began to fail, and as the doctor told 
me that the brackish air from the Sound 
was injurious to her, she suffering from 
asthma, I decided that we must leave the 
place. A person living at West Farms 
had taken a fancy to our property and 
was anxious to purchase it. At first I 
scouted the idea, but as my wife's health 
was now the main consideration, I finally 
yielded, and sold the place. We then re- 
turned to New York. 

Not long ago I felt a desire to have a 
look at the old house, and journeyed 
thither for the purpose. When I built it, 
in 1859, there was, from Mott's Foundry 
at the north end of Harlem Bridge to my 
own cottage, scarcely a house, where now? 
all along Third Avenue (then known as 
Boston Road) and up One Hundred and 
Thirty-eighth Street, there are stores and 
137 



BECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYEK 

flats, while in the streets which were then 
little more than country roads are now 
seen the modern electric cars. All the 
beautiful old cherry-trees have been razed 
to the ground, and where once flowed the 
pretty little brook there is now an avenue 
lined with buildings, the abode of hun- 
dreds of people. My cottage still stands, 
but it is overshadowed on each side by 
five -story brick flat-houses. The little 
St. Ann's Church was the only thing left 
to remind me of the Wilton that I had 
known. My son, who was born there, but 
left at too tender an age to remember 
much of its beauty, and who had heard 
me speak so often of it, accompanied me, 
and found it hard to realize that this busy 
thoroughfare, with its throngs of people, 
covered the spot where had been the first 
country home of his father. 

I remained with Laura Keene until she 
retired from the theater, when Mrs. John 
Wood became the new manager. She 
changed the name to the Olympic. Pre- 
vious to entering upon her new venture, 
she played for a time with Mr. Jefferson 
138 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

at the Winter Garden, and I was a mem- 
ber of their company during a successful 
season. I had hoped that Mr. Jefferson 
would have been associated with Mrs. 
Wood in her new enterprise, but it did 
not so happen, for when they parted he 
went to California and afterward to Aus- 
tralia. 

Mrs. Wood's career at the Olympic was 
a brilliant one, and many clever people 
were engaged for her company. There 
were E. L. Davenport, William Holston, 
James Lewis, William Davidge, Kate 
Newton, Eliza Newton, Mrs. G. H. Gil- 
bert, J. B. Studley, George Boniface, Ed- 
ward Lamb, George Fawcett Bowe, J. K. 
Mortimer, and others. Mr. John H. Sel- 
wyn was the stage-manager and J. E. 
Hayes the scenic artist. Mrs. Wood man- 
aged the theater for three years, and dur- 
ing that time produced a variety of pieces, 
including comedies, burlesques, dramas, 
etc. Everything was finely put on the 
stage, the scenery being specially worthy 
of notice, as Mr. Hayes was a most expert 
and accomplished scenic painter. Some 
139 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

of his transformation scenes were astonish- 
ingly effective. The "Streets of New York/' 
with J. K. Mortimer as Badger, enjoyed 
a long run, as did also " Monte Cristo," 
with E. L. Davenport in the principal 
part. James Lewis made his first appear- 
ance in New York, with Mrs. Wood, at 
this theater, as did Mrs. G. H. Gilbert. I 
was worked into all the pieces produced, 
and even was compelled, on one or two 
occasions, to tackle a singing part, much 
to my disgust and, I have no doubt, to the 
discomfort of the audience, as I have never 
been gifted with vocal talent. On a later 
occasion at the theater, when "Rip Van 
Winkle" was produced by Mr. Jefferson 
after his return from England in 1866, 
during rehearsal of the chorus in the first 
act, beginning "Mein Herr van Dunk, he 
never got drunk," etc., the leader of the 
orchestra, Thomas Baker, not being satis- 
fied with the volume of sound produced 
from the stage, became irritated, and called 
upon all performers to sing louder. Tak- 
ing my cue from this, I pulled out most 
vociferously, and, I presume, as usual, was 
140 



OLYMPIC 

622 AND 624 BROADWAY, 
STAGE MANAGES - - - ~ - J H SBLWYM 



CHANGE OF PROGRAMME 

TWO HEW PIECES 



PRETTY WIDOW OF THE MILL 

Second night in America of an entirely new and 

ORIGINAL COMIC PIECE, 



l will plar the followiug mojric, arranged by and under tba direction of. 

froLii.. 



lodie "The Irisk Emigrant," "laluvuf 
V' " Bmr af thaa." *c B^3 



Tuesday Evening, Jan. 12tb. 1864. 

FOXt THB SEJOOND TOCB1 IN Annma T r-- A 

an anuralj new and original Comio Piaej, in two acta, called 



BULL 

CHINA SHOP! 

Hr. Tipthorpe - Kr. W. Bavidge 

Bax.Bagshot, a commercial Gent Mr. J. K. Mortimer 

Mr. Flitter, clerk ia the War Office .... . , Mr. G. Becks 

lair. Piper, Pianoforte tuner Mr. T. Owens 

Mr. Bellamy Brownjohn. late Major or th« Melbourne Boomerang* 

^ Mr.J.H.Stoddan: 



Miss J. Walter* 

Miss Harris 

Hcene-TIPTHOBPE'S HOUSE. Time -THE FBESENT DAY. 

After which, 

FOR 'X'-HL E5 SBCOMT) TIIVIE:. 

the elegant and laughable Comedietta, entitled, 

COUSIN CHERRY 

Charles. EarlofMandeTille Mr. G. H. Clarke 

Thomas Primrose 1 rwin. t Mr. J. H. Stoddart 

Blinoi Prlmroie Mr». Sedley Brown 



MR. FRAJNTK DREW 



Boon open at 7. Performances commence at a quarter to 8. 
OPEBA GLASSES OH HIBE IN THE LOBBY. 
FEUOJSJS OF ADMISSION. 

DnaDnhBlKnal »CMB|D.k,.lCtoUv. •_■ •■•« Oe«« 

witiim B-"J 1 *•'-*» ■ — «" —* 

•u B**k Op., la. a to A «.ata ma; ba meal MM! SATS Ht aO VAH01 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

not anywhere near the key, for Mr. Baker 
vociferated : "I said all sing, but not you, 
Mr. Stoddart." 

Mrs. Wood's productions of "Martin 
Chuzzlewit" and "Our Mutual Friend" 
were among her most successful ventures. 

As Bailey, the boy at Mrs. Todgers's, in 
the former play, Mrs. Wood found a part 
in which she reveled. She was the life 
and spirit of the play. Mrs. Gilbert as 
Sairey Gamp and Charles Parsloe as Betsy 
Prigg were also happily cast. Humphrey 
Bland gave a wonderfully effective im- 
personation of Jonas Chuzzlewit, and I have 
not yet forgotten his intensity in the mur- 
der scene, or his catlike manner, taking 
off his shoes and creeping out of the house 
into the road where walked his victim. 
Davidge, too, was excellent as Old Martin 
Chuzzlewit, and I think I added something 
to my reputation by my performance of 
Pecksniff. Altogether, in my opinion, it 
was one of the company's best perform- 
ances. Equally good was the production 
of "Our Mutual Friend." The mill scene 
was, at that time, thought to be a wonder - 
141 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

ful piece of effective realism, and even in 
these progressive days the beauty of the 
scenery which Hayes produced would, I 
think, be greatly admired. I append the 
cast of characters : 

Bella Wilfer . . . Mrs. John Wood 

Mrs. Boffin Miss Harris 

Lizzie Hexham Kate Newton 

Charlie Hexham . . . Louisa Myers 

Mrs. Wilfer Mrs. Gilbert 

Silas Wegg . . . George Fawcett Rowe 
John Harmon . . . . J. W. Albaugh 
Eugene Wrayburn . George Boniface 
Mortimer Lightwood Charles Rockwell 
Rogue Riderhood . . . . J. B. Studley 
Gaffer Hexham . . . Charles Morton 

Mr. Venus T. J. Hind 

Mr. Boffin J. H. Stoddart 

Charles Morton, mentioned above, was 
afterward long identified with the pro- 
duction of the "Black Crook." 

Another good production was "The 
Three Guardsmen." The cast included 
George Fawcett Rowe, Studley, Boniface, 
Mrs. Wood, Kate Newton, and Mme. 
Methua Schiller. I played the part of 
Bichelieu, and I remember I received quite 
142 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

a scoring from the press. I do not think 
it was deserved, for the character, as it 
appears in "The Three Guardsmen," is 
that of a young man, a disagreeable, heavy 
part, and a thankless one. Some of the 
papers absurdly attempted to. compare my 
performance with Mr. Booth's Richelieu in 
Bulwer's play, which was a different 
matter ; but I received what I considered 
justice from an unexpected quarter— the 
" Police Gazette," which pointed out the 
absurdity of the comparison. 

During Mrs. Wood's second season 
Augustin Daly produced a comedy called 
"Taming a Butterfly," a clever piece. 
He was at that time of the staff of the 
New York "Times," and I remember his 
reading the play to the company. Mrs. 
Wood, I think, stood alone in a certain 
line of characters. She was immensely 
popular, and much liked and respected 
by her company. While she managed the 
Olympic it was conducted in a thoroughly 
artistic way ; she was a power in herself, 
liberal in her views, and spared no expense 
that she deemed necessary to the proper 
143 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

conduct of her theater. I was with her 
during the three years of her management, 
and her retirement from it caused great 
regret, not only on the part of the public, 
but also to all her associates. 

After Mrs. Wood retired Mr. Leonard 
Grover took possession of the house, and 
several members of the company continued 
with him, of whom I was one. Mr. Charles 
Barron came from Boston to join us ; Stuart 
Robson was also a member. " The Hugue- 
not Captain" and other plays were per- 
formed. Mr. Grover's dramatic season was 
of short duration, and an operatic com- 
pany was soon brought into the theater. 
Before that event Mr. George Jordan, 
after a long absence from New York, was 
brought from London, making his reap- 
pearance in a drama played by Mr. Fech- 
ter called "The Master of Ravenswood," 
being a new version of the old play "The 
Bride of Lammermoor." It was a fine 
production, but a dismal failure. Jordan, 
who had been so popular at one time, was 
received in the coldest manner, and he 
seemed to feel it keenly, for after the 
144 




Mr. Stoddart as Money penny. 



KECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYEK 

play's brief run he returned to England, 
where not long afterward he died. Fol- 
lowing "The Master of Bavenswood," Bou- 
cicault's drama of "The Long Strike " was 
produced. I had some disagreeable words 
with Mr. Grover in consequence of his 
haying cast me for the part of Moneypenny 
in this play. I had read the criticisms on 
the London production of the piece, and 
Mr. Emery, who played Noah Learoyd, was 
highly commended. As he occupied in 
London the same position as I did with 
Mr. Grover,— that of character actor,— I 
considered that it was not proper for Mr. 
Charles Wheatleigh to play the part of 
Noah, for which he was specially engaged. 
I thought it unjust, and said so ; but the 
manager would not alter his decision. 
After the first performance I was glad 
that he had not done so. In searching for 
some means of making the part of Money- 
penny as effective as possible, I hit upon a 
nervous, crabbed, and fidgety way of play- 
ing it that made the character stand out 
and did me more good, in the way of ad- 
vancement, than anything I had previously 
10 145 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

done. Mr. Wheatleigh was capital as 
Noah Learoyd, and so it turned out that 
Mr. Grover knew better how to cast the 
play than I did. 

"The Long Strike" was a success ; 
McKee Rankin, James Ward, Charles 
Vandenhoff, and Kate Newton played in 
it, and contributed largely thereto. Our 
manager had arranged to bring in his 
opera company, and we had to give place. 
It so happened that Mr. Tilly Haynes, the 
proprietor of the theater in Springfield, 
Massachusetts, witnessed a performance of 
"The Long Strike," and being pleased 
with it, he sent a note to my dressing-room 
inquiring if, on our closing in New York, 
we would bring the play to Springfield 
for a week. Our season at the Olympic 
having been brought thus abruptly to an 
end, we were all glad of this chance to 
prolong it, so we got together and agreed 
to start out on our own account, as a sort 
of a commonwealth. We opened in Spring- 
field, and played to fine business for a week. 
Afterward we visited all of the New Eng- 
land cities, making a long season, and 
146 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

returned to New York rather better off 
than if we had been employed there all 
the winter. 

After leaving Wilton, and in pursuance 
of my ruling passion, I had made another 
venture and bought a small farm near 
Rahway, in New Jersey. I was still bent 
on having a country home, but this time 
we had decided on living in the city dur- 
ing the winter months. We had not re- 
sided long in the city when we lost our 
elder boy ; and having an idea that had 
we remained in Wilton we might have 
escaped so great an affliction, and fearing 
that something similar might befall our 
other children, we determined to make 
the country our permanent home. We 
therefore took up our residence at "Ave- 
nel," as the farm was called, where we re- 
mained for twenty years. 

I rejoined Mr. Wallack in 1867, remain- 
ing with him for seven years, and all that 
time living at Avenel. My opening part 
at Wallack's (the house afterward called 
the Star, and recently razed) was Mar all in 
"A New Way to Pay Old Debts," in which 
147 . 



KECOLLECTIOSTS OF A PLAYEB 

E. L. Davenport was the Sir Giles Over- 
reach—a masterly performance. When a 
youngster in Aberdeen I had played Mar- 
all with Gustavus V. Brooke, and his per- 
formance made a great impression on me ; 
but Mr. Davenport's impersonation, I 
think, was equally great with that of 
Brooke. Mr. John Gilbert played all the 
principal old men, and therefore I found 
myself allotted to a line of eccentric char- 
acters, splendid parts, but such as I never 
had expected to be called upon to play. 
Some of them were Acres in "The Rivals," 
Doctor Ollapod in "The Poor Gentleman," 
and Doctor Pangloss in "The Heir-at-Law." 
Not having had the advantage of a classi- 
cal education, I dreaded Pangloss, filled as 
it is with quotations from the dead lan- 
guages. However, I obtained a letter of 
introduction to a skilled linguist, who 
coached me in the pronunciation and 
meaning of the Greek and Latin quota- 
tions, and as no fault was found with my 
efforts, I presume I could not have been 
altogether bad. 

I often wonder how I succeeded in mas- 
148 




John Gilbert. 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

tering the words of all those parts. Living 
as I did in the country, I was a commuter 
on the railroad, and during all the time I 
attended to my duties at the theater, in- 
cluding rehearsals, after which I went by 
street- car to the ferry for Jersey City, and 
then, nightly, by train to the station at 
Rahway, which was distant from my home 
about two miles. There my man would 
meet me, sometimes with a carriage, and 
at others, when the roads were bad, with 
an extra saddle-horse, on which I would 
ride home — sometimes arriving there as 
late as two o'clock in the morning. And 
this I did for twenty years. Many of my 
associates at the theater frequently said 
that they would not go through such an 
experience for all the farms in New Jer- 
sey. Alas ! many of them are dead, and 
I scarcely need say that I am much alive 
yet. 

I had been so fortunate with my few 
pear-trees at Wilton that now, being in 
possession of about forty acres, the oppor- 
tunity presented itself to go into it "big," 
and I resolved to do so. I read all sorts 
149 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYEK 

of agricultural literature— "Ten Acres 
Enough" and "Pear Culture for Profit/' 
written by Mr. Quinn, who lived on Pro- 
fessor Mapes's old place at Waverly, New 
Jersey. I understood that Quinn had a 
splendid pear orchard, and pear culture 
was my ambition, so off I went to inter- 
view him. He took me through his pear 
orchard— a grand sight, thousands of trees 
all in bloom. I was enchanted. As Mr. 
Quinn was a theater-goer, he knew me, and 
I having told him of my ambition to be- 
come a pear-grower, and having asked his 
advice, he gave me good counsel as to what 
varieties to plant. I explained that it was 
my purpose, when the orchard became suf- 
ficiently remunerative, and I had reached 
the age of sixty years, to leave the stage, 
and to pass the evening of my days in at- 
tending to the marketing of my fruit, in 
communion with my family, and at peace 
with all mankind. Mr. Quinn thought my 
plan an excellent one, and advised me to 
plant only two varieties of pears, the Bart- 
lett and the Duchess d'Angouleme, telling 
me that I could grow the latter as easily 
150 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYEK 

as potatoes, and that in the market they 
were worth five dollars a barrel. I was 
delighted, and flew home to Mrs. Stoddart, 
growing enthusiastic over my interview 
with Mr. Quinn. She thought there might 
be something in it, but did not take the 
same rosy view of the matter that I did. 
It was her idea that I should plant a few 
at first and see how they turned out. 
"Why, my dear," I said, "that would be 
of no use at all ; it is the great quantity 
planted, and all coming into bearing at 
the same time, that is going to do the 
trick." 

Mrs. Stoddart was always the treasurer, 
and seeing my anxiety, she fell into my 
views, dear soul, as she always did, and 
surrendered what cash we had on hand 
available to my project. I ordered pear- 
trees by the thousands. "We planted our 
orchard on a beautiful eastern slope where 
we could overlook it from our veranda, 
and when all was completed I surveyed 
the work with satisfaction, saying to my 
wife : "There, my dear ; by the time I am 
sixty our orchard will be in full bearing, 
151 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

and then I need act no more." Ah, the 
fallacy of hnman hopes ! At seventy-four 
I am still acting. The orchard— well, the 
orchard has gone. 

Charles Thome's brother Ned had a 
place at Toms River where he used to 
breed dogs. Charles would go down there, 
select those that caught his fancy, and 
bring them up to New York. Knowing 
I had a farm, he said I ought to have a 
dog, and he gave me one— a Gordon setter. 
Stuart Robson and he were at the time 
enthusiastic regarding the production of 
"The Two Men of Sandy Bar," a dramati- 
zation of Bret Harte's story that Robson 
had bought. I was selected to play the 
part of Sandy. Both Thorne and Robson 
said to me : "Stoddart, for luck call your 
dog ' Sandy.' " And I did. I took him out 
to my homestead a pup, and he remained 
there until he died of old age. Thorne 
had a beautiful Skye terrier called Jack, 
a small shaggy creature with long hair like 
silk. You could scarcely tell his head from 
his tail. He valued him very much, and 
when we started on our travels he asked 
152 



KECOLLECTIOJSTS OF A PLAYEE 

me to care for him at my farm until our 
return. I did ; but Jack, who had lived in a 
parlor and was washed and combed every 
day, became dreadfully metamorphosed 
when he rambled with Sandy through 
the Jersey mud, so much so that when 
Thorne came out to the farm to take him 
back to New York he scarcely knew him. 
I felt ashamed, myself, of Jack's appear- 
ance ; and, to add to our discomfort, the 
dog insisted on treating Thorne as a stran- 
ger, greeting him with sullen growls. "I 
don't want him," said Thorne ; "you may 
keep him." And we did for years. 

Sandy and Jack ever held a warm place 
in our affections. After my long journey 
from the theater, the ill-assorted pair were 
always on hand, late as it was, to give me 
a joyous welcome. Sandy passed his life 
with us, and we all mourned his loss as 
keenly as if he had been a member of the 
family. 

To return to my farming : I pitched in 

manfully every moment I could spare, and 

was always to be seen, hoe in hand, among 

my trees. Year after year it was my cus- 

153 



EECOLLECTIOlSrS OF A PLAYEE 

torn to leave the farm early in the morn- 
ing for rehearsal at the theater, after which 
I would return home, remaining there 
only a short time, and again retracing my 
steps to the city for the evening's per- 
formance, closing my day's work by the 
midnight trip home again. I had by this 
time an important position in the theater 
—long parts in nearly every piece, and a 
frequent change of program. I have of 
late so often been nervous and ill at ease, 
in spite of having ample time for study and 
weeks of preparation in rehearsal, that I 
have wondered how I got through the 
work in those days, under the circum- 
stances that I have mentioned. Perhaps 
it was because I was then forty and in the 
prime of life. 

In all the years I lived upon my farm 
and took those long journeys, I never 
failed but once of being on time for my 
duty at the theater. This was during the 
run of "Rosedale " at Wallack's, in which 
I was playing Buriberry Cobb, a part origi- 
nally acted by Mr. George Holland. My 
train was on time, but something happened 
154 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

to the ferry-boat which caused us to floun- 
der and float about in the North River. 
It got to be a quarter to eight, then eight, 
then quarter -past eight o'clock, and I was 
distracted. I rushed first to the captain, 
then to the engineer. "I am," I said, "an 
actor j I belong to Wallack's. Oh, can't 
you do something to get me ashore ? My 
absence may interfere with the entire 
performance." The captain was too busy 
about his boat to listen to me. The en- 
gineer did, however, and laughed. We 
eventually reached Desbrosses Street, after 
half-past eight. As I found no car at the 
ferry-house, I ran all the way to Broadway, 
got into a stage, and finally reached the 
theater, at Thirteenth Street. Charles 
Fisher and I dressed together, and we had 
a dresser known as " old Edward. ' ' Fisher 
was not acting, and Edward had neglected 
to report my absence from the theater, so 
that my cue to go on had been given and 
I was not there. I was in my dressing- 
room, bathed in perspiration and all ex- 
citement, when Mr. Wallack came in and 
began to blow up poor old Edward for not 
155 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYEE 

reporting my absence from the theater. 
I interceded for him, saying that I alone 
was to blame. Mr. Wallack interrupted 
me by saying : "I won't say anything to 
yon, Stoddart j I see the state you are in ; 
but, d— n it, you should n't live in the 
country." I dressed and played the re- 
mainder of the part, and the incident 
closed. 

Lester Wallack, like his father, con- 
ducted his theater on the most liberal 
principles. After his father retired from 
the active management of the theater, he 
assumed control, and acted only occasion- 
ally. In the event of a new piece being a 
comparative failure, Lester would come to 
the rescue in some of his old parts, and 
always succeeded in saving the day. His 
own play of "Rosedale" was always a 
drawing card. Once when this piece was 
on for a run, the gentleman cast for Colonel 
May was suddenly taken ill. Mr. Charles 
Rockwell, a minor member of the com- 
pany, went on in the part at very short 
notice, and played it so creditably that 
Lester said to him next day : "Rockwell, 
156 




Lester Wallack. 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

you must be putting by a liberal sum each 
week out of your salary, it is such an 
enormous one. I have taken the liberty 
of buying you a pocket-book so that you 
may not lose any of it." Upon opening 
the wallet Rockwell found it contained a 
fifty-dollar bill, with Wallack's thanks for 
his performance of Colonel May. For a 
whole season James W. Wallack and E. 
L. Davenport were stock members, divid- 
ing the business, giving and taking, and 
all in the most agreeable way. Charles 
Mathews also played an entire season, and 
without more prominence being given to 
him than to the most minor member. 

I recall a cast of "London Assurance" 
that was remarkably strong in the men. 
Mr. Gilbert played Sir Harcourt Courtly, 
John Brougham Max Harkaway, Mr. "Wal- 
lack Charles Courtly, Mathews Dazzle, Joe 
Polk Dolly Spanker, and I Mark Meddle. 
The comedy had a good run, two weeks. 
Some of my most pleasant remembrances 
are of the seven years I passed as an actor in 
the Thirteenth Street house. Many changes 
in the company took place during that 
157 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

time, but it was always kept up to its high 
standard. Lester Wallack's courteous 
treatment of all the members of his com- 
pany ; the repertory of pieces ; the com- 
fort of the theater ; the efficiency of the 
attendants,— all tended to make life in 
Wallack's a particularly pleasant one. 

A lady of my acquaintance was talking 
to me, not long ago, about the old days at 
Wallack's, and of the plays produced there. 
She mentioned particularly Robertson's 
plays, saying she should never forget the 
performance of "School"— the beauty of 
the stage setting, not so often seen then, 
with its rural landscape, and fountain of 
real water, the young school-girls, etc. 
Then she went on to name the players in 
the cast, calling them all "dear." There 
was "dear Mr. Gilbert," "dear Mr. Fisher," 
"dear Owen Marlowe," "dear Mrs. Ver- 
non," "dear Mrs. Jennings," and "dear 
Effie Germon" ; and there was Mr. Stod- 
dart as the hateful old teacher Krux, who, 
she said, was not dear at all. Ah, the old 
days and my old companions ! I was glad 
to hear they were not forgotten by my 
158 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

friend. And the name of Tom Robertson 
brought back to me our first meeting in 
Yorkshire, years and years ago, when I 
listened to the reading of his plays, which 
I could not then quite understand, and 
when he was, like myself, a struggling 
player. 

I had acted, at the end of our regular 
season, two summer engagements lasting 
a few weeks in "The Long Strike," which 
seemed to turn out well. On one occasion 
Mr. Charles Vandenhoff and some other 
ladies and gentlemen had some financial 
trouble at another theater. Mr. Moss, 
Wallack's treasurer and representative, 
had made an arrangement with them to 
play in "The Long Strike." There was 
nothing said until the time came to begin 
the performance, and then there was an 
actual strike— the actors refusing to go on 
until the money due to them from their 
former manager had been paid. Mr. Moss 
tried to convince them that he had no- 
thing to do with their previous engage- 
ment, but they were obdurate and would 
not yield. Mark the result. Mr. Moss 
159 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

gave at once a check for the amount 
claimed, payment of which he stopped 
next morning. Mr. Floyd, the stage-man- 
ager, rehearsed a new lot of people, hur- 
riedly gathered, and "The Long Strike " 
was played with a new cast the following 
night, and in a creditable manner. It 
was a most unjust proceeding on the part 
of Vandenhoff and his associates, and I pre- 
sume they lost, as they deserved to lose, a 
night's salary for their pains. 

Our two summer experiences at Wal- 
laces with a The Long Strike " gave two 
of my associates, B. T. Ringgold and 
Charles Rockwell, the idea of trying it, 
during our vacation, in other places. I 
was not connected with the speculation, 
but went with them under a salary. They 
played six weeks successfully in Syracuse, 
Buffalo, Rochester, and other cities in New 
York State, and repeated the venture the 
following summer, with the same satis- 
factory result. 

On the strength of these two engage- 
ments I was persuaded to leave Wallack's 
and go "starring " under the management 
160 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

of Binggold and Rockwell. I soon re- 
gretted this step. I had been for so many 
years a stock actor that I had no ambition 
beyond it. I had always thought that a 
star ought to be one gifted with ability 
far beyond his fellows, and such a person 
I did not then consider myself to be. In 
Mr. Wallack's stock company I had been 
associated with such actors as Davenport, 
J. W. Wallack, Charles Mathews, John 
Gilbert, Miss Rose Eytinge, Madeline 
Henriques, Louisa Moore, Charles Wynd- 
ham, J. C. Williamson, George Clark, 
Fanny Morant, Mrs. Thomas Barry, Mme. 
Ponisi, George Holland, Mrs. Yernon, Mrs. 
John Sefton,— formerly known at Mit- 
chell's Olympic Theater as Mrs. Watts,— 
Katharine Rogers, and with other talented 
people under his father's management at 
the Broome Street theater. With the 
exception of Davenport, Wallack, and 
Mathews, who, upon occasion, had pre- 
viously appeared as stars, all of the above, 
artists of rare ability, were of the class 
termed "stock actors," and all were as- 
sembled in this company on an equal 
11 161 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

footing, no one being featured above bis 
fellows. After sucb an experience and so 
long an association with sucb players as 
these, no wonder I besitated to claim any- 
thing like a stellar position for myself. 
Nobody can belp making occasional mis- 
takes, so I bade farewell to Wallack's, 
where I bad served so long witb father 
and son, to old associates, and to a por- 
tion of my New York career that I shall 
always remember with pleasure. 

The management engaged a good com- 
pany, including Miss lone Burke, a charm- 
ing actress, and Miss Julia Gaylord, who, 
besides being a competent artiste, was a 
vocalist of rare ability. She afterward 
became a member of the Carl Rosa Opera 
Company, and with it sang all the prin- 
cipal prima-donna roles throughout Eng- 
land. Our pieces were "The Long Strike," 
"Dearer than Life," and "Meg's Diver- 
sion." I signed a contract for three years, 
and we began our tour in the fall of 1873. 
The luck which had been ours in our pre- 
vious ventures did not follow us in this. 
I was more sorry for my managers than 
162 



EECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYEE 

for myself 7 for I was their attraction, but, 
unluckily, did not attract. Our non-suc- 
cess may in part, I think, be attributed to 
the fact that, outside of the cities of New 
York State which I had previously 
visited, I was little known at this time ; 
and then, too, the whole country was 
laboring under the stress of the terrible 
financial panic which swept it during the 
year 1873. It seemed too bad, for the 
entertainment was a worthy one. Some- 
times we were much encouraged by the 
favor of our audiences, and we were often 
told that when we came back the theater 
would be crowded ; but on our return to 
these same places the theaters were by no 
means full. I used to hear the forerunners, 
or agents, of the different "shows," as they 
were called, bragging about the enormous 
business done by the companies which they 
represented. I had seen some of these 
companies, and I wondered why they 
should be doing so well and we so badly. 
I have since discovered that theatrical 
agents are not always noted for veracity. 
Messrs. Kinggold and Eockwell kept the 
163 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

company going until the end of the season, 
in spite of poor business, meeting all their 
obligations. At the end of it I parted 
with my managers, canceling our contract 
by mutual consent. I left them with re- 
gret ; they were honorable fellows, and 
had to relinquish their enterprise only for 
lack of capital. 

My position at Wallack's was filled by 
Mr. Harry Beckett, who was engaged for 
the purpose. My brother George at this 
time had returned from England, and he 
and I formed the idea of going "on the 
road " on our own account. I bought from 
Mr. Boucicault the rights to "The Long 
Strike," and my brother and I made a 
second venture. The result was not much 
better. I was wavering as to my future 
when I met Mr. Lawrence Barrett, and I 
was encouraged by what he said. "I have 
followed you in the different towns," he 
remarked, "and you are highly spoken of 
everywhere. Stick to it. I had a similar 
experience. The people must know you 
and expect your coming. You please 
those who do see you ; so stick to it." I 
164 




Mrs. Vernon. 



KECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYEK 

was almost determined to do so, but when 
I returned to New York I happened to 
go to the Union Square Theater to see 
"Led Astray." During the interval be- 
tween the acts I met Mr. A. M. Palmer in 
the lobby, and he asked me if I had as yet 
had enough of starring. I told him that 
I had not found it profitable. "You had 
better come to me/ 7 he said. The result 
was that, after some discussion regarding 
terms, I was engaged as a member of the 
Union Square Theater Company, and the 
association thus begun lasted for nearly 
twenty years. It was thus that I dis- 
missed the notion of being a star. 

In this matter of starring I often think 
how conditions have changed since the old 
days. It is not now so much the ability 
or the reputation of the aspirant for stellar 
honors which so much avails as it is the 
attractiveness of the play in which he ap- 
pears ; not so much the individual as the 
material in which he appears— nowas never 
before "the play 7 s the thing." I suppose 
if I had been provided with a new and at- 
tractive vehicle for my venture the result 
165 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

might have been different. However^ 
what I lost in dollars I have certainly 
made np in comfort : I have been enabled 
to remain almost constantly in New York, 
the haven for which we all strive ; I have 
had the longest metropolitan career of 
any actor now upon the stage ; I have had 
the pleasure of being associated with the 
best companies ; I have also served the best 
managers, from the elder Wallack to the 
present time ; and, above all, I have been 
enabled to pass a long life at home, in 
domestic happiness. So, when I look back- 
ward to the beginning of my career in New 
York, I feel that I have much cause for 
gratitude as that career draws near its 
close. 

I had been thrust into eccentric comedy 
with Wallack, and upon my advent in the 
Union Square Theater Company I was 
obliged again to change my line of busi- 
ness, for Mr. Stuart Robson was the come- 
dian of the company, and therefore I was 
put on for character work. In the old 
days you had to try and make yourself 
like the part allotted to you, whether you 
166 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

were really suitable or not, so that my 
early training helped me at this time. 

"Rose Michel " was the play in which I 
opened at the Union Square. In this I 
appeared as Pierre Michel, a person of the 
class known as "heavy villains." I told 
Mr. Palmer I thought the part somewhat 
out of my line, but he thought otherwise, 
and circumstances eventually proved that 
he was right, for I got much credit for my 
performance. I have an impression that 
I was largely indebted to the coat I wore 
for any success which I achieved. I had 
been told to order my dress, making my 
own selection. I described to the cos- 
tumer what I wanted, directing him to 
make a long gray coat which should reach 
down to my heels, explaining that my part 
was that of an old miser, and that I wanted 
my dress, as far as possible, to convey the 
character of the man. So I said : "Make 
it loose and heavy, so that I can slip out 
of it in a second." He professed to know 
exactly what I wanted, and set to work to 
make the garment. When I received it 
I was disgusted. It was a clean modern 
167 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

overcoat with a bright muslin lining. 
However, I determined to make it what I 
wanted, so I took it out to my farm and 
spoiled its beauty with Jersey mud. Mrs. 
Stoddart then tackled it, lined it with some 
heavy old material, jagged it with her 
shears, and then threw it into the cellar 
and made a mat of it until it was required. 
There is no difficulty in obtaining a hand- 
some coat, but it is difficult to get one that 
shall have the appearance of great wear 
and look old, moldy, and weather-beaten, 
such as was necessary for the miser Pierre 
Michel. When we got through with that 
coat it was all I could desire, and afterward 
it was much extolled when I used it in the 
play. 

I sent my costume ahead from the coun- 
try to the theater the day before our open- 
ing. We had no rehearsal, so I did not 
go in until evening. On reaching the 
theater, what was my consternation to 
learn that my clothes had not arrived ! I 
was almost distracted. The overture was 
about to be rung in, and I had nothing to 
wear. I went to Mr. Palmer and explained 
168 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

my plight. He said : "Keep cool ; don't 
excite yourself. You don't go on until 
the second act. Hunt it up. If nothing 
else can be done, some one must lend you 
a wig and you must get what you can out 
of the wardrobe." The things had been 
sent by Adams's Express, and away I 
rushed to the company's office, some dis- 
tance from the theater. There I was told 
that the packet had been delivered. I 
flew back to the theater, almost maddened. 
It was my first appearance in New York 
since I had left Wallack's, a new part and 
a new manager j I had played only comedy 
parts, and was now to appear in an en- 
tirely different character, so I was natu- 
rally nervous ; and I had no costume. At 
the theater my dress was nowhere to be 
found. I tried the Morton House without 
success. I do not know what possessed me 
to look for it at the Union Square Hotel, 
but I did look for it there, and there I 
found it. The packet had been delivered 
at the wrong address by the express com- 
pany, a mistake occasioned by similarity 
of names. The porter at the hotel volun- 
169 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

teered to send it to the theater for me ; 
but, once having recovered it, I would not 
give it up, so I seized it, hurried to the 
theater, and luckily was able to get myself 
dressed in time. Mr. Palmer was glad to 
see me, and the company congratulated 
me on the recovery of my "props." 

The play made a great hit, and my part 
went well, my reception being generous. 
And oh, that beautiful coat ! It proved 
all that I could have wished. Before com- 
mitting the murder, I threw it from my 
shoulders, and it slipped down to the 
ground and lay at my feet like a bundle 
of old rags. Mr. Nat Goodwin, who after- 
ward gave imitations, gave an excellent 
one of the way I used to throw this coat 
from my shoulders during my perform- 
ance. 

The Union Square Theater had been 
running successfully for several seasons 
previous to my advent there. " Agnes," 
"The Two Orphans," and "Led Astray" 
had been produced. Although I was a 
new member, I met, in the company, some 
old associates— Miss Rose Eytinge,whohad 
170 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

been the leading lady at Wallaek's during 
part of my career there, and Stuart Rob- 
son, with whom I had acted at Laura 
Keene's. Charles R. Thorne, Jr., an- 
other member, and I had played small 
parts together in "The Invisible Prince," 
with Mrs. John Wood. So I felt compara- 
tively at home. "Rose Michel " was beau- 
tifully staged and splendidly acted. To 
me it read like an ordinary melodrama, 
but it was set with such care and acted in 
such a refined manner that it was raised 
to a high grade of performance. The 
scenic effects produced on that small stage 
were indeed extraordinary. Mr. Marston, 
who was with Mr. Palmer so many years, 
was, and is, a wonderful scene-painter. 

The rights of the play "Rose Michel" 
for America had been bought by Mr. 
Palmer, but in its original form it did not 
please him, and persons were employed to 
make alterations in it so as to render 
it suitable for production at the Union 
Square. The work proved unsatisfactory, 
however, until Mr. Steele Mackaye essayed 
the task of revision and his version was 
171 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

accepted and played. The cast included 
Rose Eytinge, Charles R. Thorne, Jr., 
Stuart Robson, John Parselle, Frederick 
Robinson, Eben Plympton, Fanny Morant, 
Nina Varian, and others, and the opening 
was November 23, 1875. The play ran al- 
most throughout the season. 

Mr. John Parselle was the stage-manager 
of the theater. I had never met him be- 
fore, but I knew that he had been for many 
years in London, at the Haymarket, the 
Lyceum, and the Adelphi. He came to 
America with Mr. Charles Wyndham, and 
he acted for a season with Mrs. John Drew, 
at the Arch Street Theater, Philadelphia, 
previous to joining Mr. Palmer's forces. 
I also knew that he hailed from Glasgow. 
I had, therefore, no hesitation in speedily 
making myself known to him. We be- 
came fast friends and companions, and re- 
mained so until his death. He was a rare 
scholar, a linguist of great ability, an au- 
thority on all matters of disputed pro- 
nunciation. He had been a teacher of 
languages in Glasgow, but, like Alexander 
and my father, became stage-struck and 
172 




Charles R. Thome, Jr.. as Count De Vernay in " Rose Michel. 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

entered the profession. He had married 
a Scotch lassie and had a large family, all 
of his children having been born in Lon- 
don. "Jeannie," as he used to call his 
wife, was the most simple and lovable 
woman that conld be imagined. She did 
not join her husband for two years after 
his coming to America, and Parselle would 
often tell me that although he had been 
so many years in London, his wife knew 
little or nothing about theaters, always 
remaining at home looking after the 
"bairns." She had a lovely Scotch accent 
that I delighted to hear. When her hus- 
band was acting, and I happened to be 
out of the performance, he would some- 
times ask me to escort "Jeannie" to the 
theater, and I frequently did so. She had 
seen so little of acting that it was most 
amusing to hear her comments upon the 
play. "Mr. Stoddart," she would say, "I 
never like the fellow that plays the villain. 
I ken him the moment he comes oot on 
the stage, and I hate him a' through the 
performance. There is one guid thing, 
however : the fellow always gets his de- 
173 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

serts at the end." All her children were 
left in London when she and her hnsband 
came to America, having grown up and 
settled there. She used to give me a full 
description of them, but the youngest, 
" Chairley," she would say, was her favorite. 
Mr. and Mrs. Parselle spent a short time 
each summer with us at our country place, 
which was a pleasure to us, for Parselle 
was a splendid companion, filled to the 
brim with Scotch anecdote and reminis- 
cence. 

Mr. Palmer, during his career as mana- 
ger of the Union Square Theater, was ac- 
customed to send his company, almost 
annually, to Chicago and Boston at the 
conclusion of the metropolitan season, and 
many times he extended the tour as far as 
the Pacific coast. I visited California 
twelve times under his management, and 
in all that time Parselle and myself were 
inseparable companions, living at the same 
hotel and taking daily strolls together. 
He and his wife made a complete confi- 
dant of me, telling me all their plans— 
how they had, in their frugal Scotch way, 
174 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

saved a modest competence at the price 
of much privation and discomfort, and how 
they looked forward to the day when Par- 
selle should retire from the stage,— which 
he intended to do when he reached the age 
of sixty,— and that they would then pass 
the rest of their lives in peace on the 
fruits of their labor. Alas ! their hopes 
were never to be realized, for shortly after 
they had paid their last visit to us in the 
country I received a telegram from Par- 
selle saying : " Jeannie is dead.' 7 Not long 
afterward Parselle himself was taken seri- 
ously ill on Sixth Avenue, was hurriedly 
placed in a carriage, and died before reach- 
ing his home. Sheridan Shook, James W. 
Collier, and I followed his remains to 
Greenwood, where he was buried beside 
his companion, his "Jeannie." 

My long career with Mr. Palmer brought 
me many pleasant friendships. Our fre- 
quent trips to the Pacific coast threw us 
all so much together that our association 
necessarily became intimate, lasting as they 
did for a week at a time on board the cars, 
and we grew thus to know one another 
175 



KECOLLECTIOSTS OF A PLAYEE 

more thoroughly than we ordinarily should 
have done in an acquaintance of several 
seasons in a theater. We always had our 
own private car, and the humblest person 
employed was treated, as far as the com- 
forts of travel were concerned, in the same 
manner as were the principals. The jour- 
ney across the continent thus became a 
thing to be desired rather than an experi- 
ence to be avoided. During the journey 
we would pass the time in telling stories, 
in singing songs, playing cards, etc., and 
on one occasion when we made the trip 
with the company that was to present 
" Alabama," we had with us a colored 
quartet that was engaged to sing during 
the performance, and these vocalists much 
enlivened the hours by their negro melo- 
dies, delighting not only our own members, 
but others, who were eager listeners along 
the route. 

My first trip to California had been 
made in 1878. While I was in Chicago 
with the Union Square Company I re- 
ceived an offer from the Baldwin Theater, 
at San Francisco, to go there and play two 
176 




Henry James Montague. 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

weeks in "The Long Strike." At that 
time they had a very strong stock com- 
pany, headed by James O'Neill. James A. 
Heme and F. F. Mackay were also mem- 
bers. Mr. H. J. Montague had been act- 
ing in "Diplomacy" at the California 
Theater, and had made a great hit, play- 
ing to enormous business. He was com- 
pelled to retire from the cast for a time, 
having taken cold, as he supposed ; but 
his illness proved to be a serious malady. 
As, during his absence, the receipts of the 
theater had greatly diminished, he deter- 
mined, against the advice of his physician, 
to play again. Many think his reappear- 
ance was the cause of his death ; whether 
or no that was the case, certain it is that 
he died suddenly soon after. His death 
was a great shock to the members of his 
company, and one of them, Mr. J. W. 
Shannon, told me that although it had 
been arranged to leave Montague in San 
Francisco when the company returned 
East, a short time before his death he had 
said in the most cheerful way : "Boys, I 
am not to be left ; the doctor says I can go 

12 177 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYEK 

home with you." Poor fellow, he never 
did. We were playing ' ' Dearer than Life ' ' 
at the Baldwin Theater, and just as the 
performance was closing, some one came 
and told us that Montague was no more. 
I dressed as quickly as I could and hur- 
ried to the Palace Hotel, where he had 
been living. There I was shown into his 
room. A sad sight indeed ! All the mem- 
bers of his company were in deep grief, 
surrounding the body, which was stretched 
upon a long table, with photographs of his 
mother and sister placed at either side of 
his head. 

Montague was one of the most charming 
men I ever knew. I had met him some 
years before in New York. Mr. Boucicault 
had contemplated a reproduction of a The 
Flying Scud," and wanted me to play in it. 
I went to see him at the Fifth Avenue 
Hotel, and Montague was with him. This 
was before he had played in America. I 
was introduced to him, and although few 
words were exchanged between us, I was 
immediately impressed by his frank and 
courteous bearing. I had never before 
178 



KECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYEK 

met one possessing so delightful a per- 
sonality. When I saw him stretched out 
in his lonely room at the hotel in San 
Francisco, away from all his relatives, I 
could not help thinking of that other day 
when I had first seen him in New York, 
a bright and handsome youth. 

My two weeks' engagement concluded, 
I returned East to begin my season at the 
Union Square. I had thought that my 
first visit to California would be my last ; 
but I have since visited there so often 
that I think I have become as well 
known there, probably, as in New York. 

"Ferreol " was produced after the run 
of "Kose Michel," March 21, 1876, and was 
cast to the full strength of the company, 
including Thorne, Kobson, Parselle, Eobin- 
son, and Miss Kate Claxton. It was in 
this play that Miss Maude Harrison made 
her first appearance at the Union Square 
Theater. I was cast for the part of Mar- 
tial, a gamekeeper, another murderer. 
The play— I thought a fine one— did not 
run the remainder of the season, but was 
followed, May 9, by " Conscience," which 
179 



BECOLLECTIOSTS OF A PLAYEE 

held the stage until June 9. In this ap- 
peared Thorne, Charles A. Stevenson, Par- 
selle, Stoddart, Miss Claxton, and Mrs. 
Wilkins. In "Miss Multon" I had the 
pleasure of playing a part which had some 
very good scenes with Mrs. Wilkins. I 
remembered her as the leading lady for 
two or three seasons with Alexander in 
Glasgow. She was then a Mrs. John Dale, 
very handsome and clever. Mr. Dale was 
the leading man. After his death she 
married Serveant Wilkins, a famous law- 
yer in London. One of her favorite parts 
was the Widow Green in Knowles's play of 
"The Lone Chase." I have often heard 
her tell of her performance of that part 
many years ago in London. "Queen Vic- 
toria," she would say, "and Prince Albert 
were in their box one evening when I 
was playing the Widoiv Green, and the 
Queen said to the Prince, 'Now, Albert, 
pay attention, for here comes our Widow 
Green. 7 " Mrs. Wilkins was very fond of 
repeating this experience, and having 
heard it so frequently, her associates 
rather dreaded its repetition. 
180 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

"Miss Multon " was produced November 
28, 1876, with Clara Morris in the principal 
part. Sara Jewett, Mrs. Wilkins, Miss Bi- 
jou Herron, James O'Neill, John Parselle, 
Stoddart, and others were in the cast. 
The indisposition of Miss Morris caused her 
to withdraw for a portion of the run, Char- 
lotte Thompson and Katharine Rogers 
each taking her place during her absence. 
The play was a great success. At this 
time Charles Thorne, Claude Burroughs, 
Harry Murdock, and Miss Claxton, to- 
gether with other members of the com- 
pany, not being in the cast, were sent to 
Brooklyn to give some performances of 
"The Two Orphans." After the perform- 
ance of "Miss Multon," December 5, 1876, 
as I was on my way home, I noticed, while 
crossing the ferry between New York and 
Jersey City, a great conflagration lighting 
up the sky. Living as I did in the coun- 
try, the news did not reach me until late 
the next day that the Brooklyn Theater 
had been destroyed by fire, with a dread- 
ful loss of life. Mr. Palmer had a numer- 
ous company, and frequently sent those 
181 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

members not employed to Brooklyn. A 
short time before the fire, I, with other 
members, had played there in "The Long 
Strike." "The Two Orphans" was pro- 
duced before I joined the company, so that 
I was not in the cast, and thus escaped 
being in the theater at the time of the fire. 
I knew Murdock slightly and Burroughs 
intimately— an honest young fellow. They 
both lost their lives through their endeavor 
to return to their dressing-rooms to save 
some of their property. There was much 
grief among the members of the company 
at the untimely end of these two members. 
My contracts with Mr. Palmer at first 
were for a period of three years each. I 
think this arrangement was renewed three 
or four times, until Mr. Palmer said that 
he thought formal contracts between us 
were unnecessary, and so they were dis- 
continued. I needed no written docu- 
ments from him to the effect that he would 
do as he said ; his word was enough for 
me. I always tried, during my long ser- 
vice, to be as honest and straightforward 
with him. 

182 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

"The Danicheffs " was produced in 1877 
—a beautiful play. It had a long run in 
New York, and was acted for a consider- 
able time in Boston, Philadelphia, and 
Chicago with the original cast, which 
comprised Thorne, O'Neill, Parselle, Stod- 
dart, Miss Jewett, Fanny Morant, Mrs. 
Wilkins, and others. 

I had not met Thorne since we were 
together in minor positions with Mrs. John 
Wood, at which time we dressed together. 
He was a young chap then, without posi- 
tion, but was handsome and so full of fun 
that it led him to constant "guying." I 
scarcely ever knew when to take him 
seriously— a fact that seemed to amuse 
him much. He stayed a short time with 
Mrs. Wood, going, I believe, to Boston, 
and I did not meet him again until we 
were members of the Union Square. At 
this time his acting had become striking. 
His manner was subdued and he had an 
intensity which surprised me. I do not 
think I ever saw any one so fine in certain 
parts. He could, in strong situations, be 
effective and forcible without resort to 
183 



KECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYEE 

shouting or ranting. His performances in 
"The Danicheffs" and in "The Banker's 
Daughter " were fine examples of his ripe 
ability. The stage suffered a serious loss 
indeed in his death. 

After the run of "The Danicheffs," 
Thorne and other members of the com- 
pany were sent to San Francisco, playing 
the Union Square successes, and Charles 
Coghlan came to us at the home theater. 
Before his appearance we produced a ver- 
sion of "Nicholas Mckleby" entitled 
"Smike," Bijou Herron playing Smike, Le 
Moyne Squeers, Boniface John Brody, and 
I Newman Noggs. The play ran from May 
7, 1877, till June 9, and was successful. 

On December 26, 1877, "The Man of 
Success n was produced. The cast included 
Charles Coghlan, Parselle, Agnes Booth, 
Stoddart, and others ; a fine play, but not 
successful. Mr. Coghlan's performance I 
thought most artistic. 

On January 23, 1878, "A Celebrated 
Case" was brought out. This was a no- 
table production and had a long and pros- 
perous run. It enlisted the services of 
184 




Charles Coghlan. 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

Charles Coghlan, Frank Hardenbergh, 
Parselle, Agnes Booth, Linda Dietz, Sara 
Jewett, and Mrs. G. H. Gilbert. I played 
Sergeant O^EourTce. I have reason to re- 
member this character. In the prologue 
I had a scene with Mrs. Booth, who played 
the wife of Jean Eenaud, the hero, in the 
course of which she was supposed to give 
to me, as the Sergeant, a cup of wine, which 
I had to swallow. It so happened that the 
property-man had been using kerosene on 
the stage during the day, and had left the 
bottle containing that liquid upon the 
dresser where Mrs. Booth had been in the 
habit of finding the drink for the Sergeant. 
During the business she poured a full cup 
from this bottle, handed it to me, and I 
swallowed the contents at a gulp. "Oh, 
Lord ! " I said as I received the potion. 
"What have I done?" said Mrs. Booth, 
under her breath. I could only gasp out, 
"Kerosene ! " and make a hasty exit. For 
almost a week every one avoided me, 
owing to the presence of the noxious 
fluid. I drank such a quantity that the 
odor and taste remained with me until I 
185 



KECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYEK 

thought I should[never be rid of it. Other- 
wise it did me no injury, and my physi- 
cian even said that it did me good. 

There is quite an important juvenile 
part in this play, and Mr. Palmer had 
much difficulty in finding a child young 
enough, and yet sufficiently intelligent, 
to play it. The child has to give impor- 
tant evidence concerning the innocence or 
guilt of her father, who is accused of crime. 
For some days we had all sorts of mothers 
bringing all sorts of children, who after 
going through the ordeal of a rehearsal 
were promptly dismissed. At last a lady 
appeared leading a wee tot, by name Eva 
French, who instantly astonished every- 
body. She laid aside her wrap and hat, 
and pitched in with such confidence, dis- 
playing such ability, that it immediately 
settled the question. Mr. Palmer was de- 
lighted. She was regularly engaged, and 
she was seen afterward in many parts, such 
as the child in "The Banker's Daughter" 
and the little waif in "The Lights o' Lon- 
don." She also went out with the com- 
pany to California, and remained with Mr, 
186 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

Palmer until she became too old to play 
children's r61es. In all our travels she 
proved the little sunbeam of the company. 
I think that I was an especial favorite 
with her, for during our trips she would 
sit upon my knee for hours, and I would 
make up little Scotch stories to amuse her, 
and as I would finish one she would always 
promptly demand another. 

Years afterward I was playing for a 
charitable benefit in "One Touch of Na- 
ture " at the Academy of Music, and after 
the performance the doorkeeper told me 
that there were two ladies outside in- 
quiring for me. As I went to meet them 
the elder one said : "Mr. Stoddart, I sup- 
pose you don't remember us. I am Mrs. 
French, and this is Eva, the little girl who 
used to sit on your knee and listen to your 
stories." I was surprised that this hand- 
some and modish young woman should be 
the little child who had once been a mem- 
ber of our company, the "little Eva" of 
bygone days. 

"The Banker's Daughter " was produced 
at the Union Square November 30, 1878, 
187 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYEE 

and was an instantaneous success. It 
made more money for the management, I 
should judge, than any other play in the 
annals of the house, and yet its history is 
a strange one. When Charles Coghlan 
was in the theater Mr. Palmer thought of 
doing it, so it was read to us in the green- 
room, then being called "Lillian's Last 
Love." I remember Coghlan saying he 
thought it the greatest trash he had ever 
heard. Mr. Palmer, I presume, had no 
great opinion of it, either, as, after the 
reading, nothing more was heard of it for 
a long time. In due course, however, it 
turned up again, under the title of "The 
Banker's Daughter." Mr. Palmer set A. 
E. Cazauran to work upon it with a view 
to its improvement. Mr. Cazauran's posi- 
tion in the theater was that of a recon- 
structor, and his business to alter and 
endeavor to improve plays, and he did 
some effective alteration on this piece, so 
it was fortunate that it was not produced 
in its original form. I was always a great 
admirer of Charles Coghlan's artistic abil- 
ity, but I doubt if any one could have 
188 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

equaled Thome's performance of John 
Strebelow in this play. Miss Sara Jewett 
was charming as Lillian. In those days 
Miss Jewett was most delightful in all that 
she undertook. Often, in going home after 
the performance on the Pennsylvania Rail- 
road, I have heard the young men who had 
been to the theater loud in their praises 
of Miss Jewett. How sweet, how ladylike, 
she was ! Miss Maude Harrison also made 
a great hit as Mrs. Brown, as likewise did 
Joe Polk in Phipps. Le Moyne, Lingham, 
the late Walden Ramsey, and myself were 
in the original cast. 

"Lost Children" was next produced, 
April 17, 1879, and it ran until May 17. 
It was magnificently staged, but it turned 
out a comparative failure. 

The season of 1879 was opened with a 
production of " French Flats," a farce, and 
different from any of the pieces heretofore 
done at the Union Square ; we were there- 
fore curious to see how it would be re- 
ceived. The theater was closed for a dress 
rehearsal on the Monday of the week set 
for its production. Mr. Palmer, with a 
189 



EECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYEB 

few others, were in front, and not only our 
manager but all his company were de- 
pressed at the effect of this rehearsal. In 
fact, the night was funereal. We produced 
this play Tuesday, October 21, and, con- 
trary to our expectations, it was received 
with much favor, so that it ran for over 
one hundred nights, and went with roars 
of laughter. I had one scene to enact 
which afterward was known as my "bro- 
ken-up scene." I was supposed to have 
had an encounter with a jealous opera- 
singer,— played by Joe Polk,— and had to 
come on in a most disheveled condition. 
The situation caused the longest continu- 
ous laughter I ever heard. 

"The False Friend " was put on January 
21, 1880, and held the stage until March 
20. It was a fine play. Mr. Thome, who 
played the " false friend," gave an excel- 
lent performance ; but his attractiveness 
in the part rather upset the motive of the 
play, for the virtuous young man of the 
piece, although supposed to be entitled to 
it, got little sympathy from the audience, 
so natural and effective was Thome's act- 
190 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

ing. Most of the principal members were 
cast in the play— Harry Courtaine, Par- 
selle, Mrs. Phillips, Sara Jewett, Maude 
Harrison, Stoddart, and others. 

"Daniel Rochat" was produced October 
15, 1880, and ran until December 14. 
Thorne in the title role and Miss Jewett 
as Leah each contributed a notable per- 
formance. The other parts afforded fine 
opportunities, and were well played by the 
principal members of the company. This 
play, which is religious in its character, 
concerns itself with the struggle between 
the disciple of agnosticism, Daniel Rochat, 
and the Christian as depicted by Leah, 
and it caused considerable discussion among 
clergymen as well as laity. We performed 
it in San Francisco, and when there the 
rector of Grace Church and the members 
of his vestry came to see it. I forget the 
clergyman's name, but we all received in- 
vitations to attend his church on the Sun- 
day following his visit to the theater. 
These invitations were addressed, not to 
us by name, but to the characters we repre- 
sented, mine, I remember, reading "To 
191 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

Dr. Bidache," which was my name in the 
play. 

I availed myself of it, as he said in his 
note that it was his intention to make a 
few remarks by way of comment on the 
play. After hearing him I was glad that 
I had attended. He spoke of the great 
literary merit of the play, and how ably 
the argument between the Christian and 
the free-thinker was handled by the 
author. He also drew our attention to 
what each had done for the benefit of the 
world. The agnostic's religion claimed, 
he said, to benefit his fellow-man. He 
then went on to point out that all institu- 
tions of a charitable nature everywhere 
are undoubtedly the work of the church, 
and owe their life and origin to Christi- 
anity, which is truly the case. He con- 
cluded by saying that he was almost as 
much interested, when at the theater, in 
the demeanor of the spectators as in the 
performance itself, and was much gratified 
to notice that all the approbation and all 
the sympathy of the people were gained 
by the Christian girl. His remarks laid 
192 



EECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYEE 

such hold on me that on every future oc- 
casion, when I visited San Francisco, I 
regularly took my place in Grace Church. 

"Daniel Eochat " was followed by a re- 
vival of "The Banker's Daughter" on 
December 15 of that year j it was played for 
about a month, a The Creole" being pro- 
duced January 16, 1881, and continuing 
until February 7. A revival of "The 
Danicheffs " followed on February 8, last- 
ing until February 26. "Felicia ; or, A 
Woman's Love," with Miss Eose Ey tinge 
in the principal part, was brought out on 
February 28, and played until April 22, 
ending that season. 

The next season opened with "The 
Lights o' London," December 5, 1881. 
This was a wonderful scenic production, 
considering the limited stage room of the 
theater. Mr. Cathcart, Wilson Barrett's 
stage -manager, who had been the producer 
of the play in London, came to America 
and directed the rehearsals at the Union 
Square. The piece was a great success, 
running throughout the entire season, to 
large business. Its New York success was 
13 193 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

duplicated in Chicago, San Francisco, and 
all the important cities of the country. The 
production enlisted the entire strength of 
the company— Thorne, Frederic De Belle- 
ville, Parselle, H. J. Montgomery, Eam- 
sey, Sara Jewett, Maude Harrison, Eleanor 
Carey, Mrs. Wilkins, little Eva French, 
and many lesser lights, together with 
crowds of supers. I shall not soon forget 
the part I played. I was cast for another 
villain, Seth Preene by name, and in one 
scene it was my ill fortune to be thrown, 
by the "gentleman villain" of the play, 
from London Bridge into the Thames be- 
neath. To say the least, it was anything 
but a pleasant sensation, this being hurled 
backward from the rail of the bridge, a 
distance of possibly fifteen or twenty feet 
from the level of the stage. The supposed 
water consisted of gauze set pieces running 
across the stage, between the lines of which 
was an open trap with a feather-bed at 
the bottom of it to receive me as I fell. 
I considered myself very fortunate if in 
my backward fall from the bridge to this 
bed I met with no obstruction. In order 
194 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

to guide myself I was in the habit of fas- 
tening a string to the rail of the bridge at 
a point exactly over the open trap, and in 
my struggle with the villain I used to con- 
trive so that I should fall from this posi- 
tion. I remember little Eva French would 
usually come to me before the scene and 
report that she had seen the string in its 
proper position. Although the part was 
a fine one, and I enjoyed it, still, what 
with the bruises which I sustained in 
my fall, and the additional discomfort of 
occasionally having my eyes and mouth 
full of salt (which they threw from be- 
neath the stage as I fell, to indicate the 
spray of the water), I was not altogether 
sorry when I dropped the acquaintance 
of Seth Preene. 

We opened in Chicago after our New 
York season, playing a long and very suc- 
cessful engagement, and presenting only 
the one play, "The Lights o' London." 
After Chicago the company started to 
San Francisco, where the piece was also 
highly successful. We returned to open 
the season of 1882 at the Union Square 
195 



EECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYEE 

with "The Eantzaus." Mr. Palmer had 
seen the play in Paris, and was so pleased 
with it that he secured the rights for 
America. He also had all the dresses made 
abroad in exact duplication of the original 
ones. "The Eantzans " is a beautiful pas- 
toral play : it vividly portrays the hatred 
of two brothers and the love of their two 
children for each other ; the final recon- 
ciliation between the brothers is effec- 
tively brought about. The brothers were 
played in Paris by Coquelin and Got. 
John Parselle and I were the originals in 
New York. The production was a de- 
cided artistic success ; financially, many 
of Mr. Palmer's productions proved more 
desirable. 

"The Parisian Eomance " was produced 
on January 12, 1883. Baron Chevrial, a 
strong and peculiar part, has since become 
well known as one of Mr. Eichard Mans- 
field's strong impersonations. The pecu- 
liar attributes of the part caused Mr. 
Palmer some doubt, for a time, as to a cor- 
rect and judicious cast for it. Mr. Mans- 
field had been engaged, but as he was 
196 




John Parselle. 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYEE 

comparatively untried in legitimate work, 
his position in the theater was thought to 
be a minor one. After the reading of the 
play the company were unanimous in 
their opinion that "The Parisian Eo- 
mance " was a one-part piece, and that part 
the Baron, and all the principals had their 
eye on him. After some delay and much 
expectancy the role was given to me. I 
was playing a strong part in "The Eant- 
zaus," and my friends in the company con- 
gratulated me upon the opportunity thus 
presented of following it up with so power- 
ful a successor. Miss Minnie Conway, who 
was a member of the company and had 
seen the play in Paris, said that she thought 
the Baron a strange part to give to me. 
"It 's a Lester WallacTc kind of part/' she 
said. 

This information rather disconcerted 
me, but I rehearsed the part for about a 
week, and then, being convinced that it 
did not suit me, I went to Mr. Palmer and 
told him I felt very doubtful as to whether 
I could do him or myself justice in it. He 
would not hear of my giving it up, saying 
197 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

that lie knew me better than I did myself ; 
that I was always doubtful j but that he 
was willing to take the risk. He also read 
a letter which he had received from some 
one in Paris giving advice regarding the 
production, in which, among other things, 
it was said that Baron Ghevrial was the 
principal part, that everything depended 
on him, and that "if you can get Stoddart 
to look well in full dress, he is the man 
you must have to play it." 

I left Mr. Palmer, resolved to try again, 
and do my best. Mr. Mansfield was cast 
in the play for a small part, and, I dis- 
covered, was watching me like a cat during 
rehearsals. A lot of fashion-plates were 
sent to my dressing-room, with instructions 
to select my costume. As I had hitherto 
been, for some time, associated with vaga- 
bonds, villains, etc., I think these fashion- 
plates had a tendency to unnerve me more 
than anything else. So I again went to 
Mr. Palmer and told him I could not pos- 
sibly play the Baron. "You must," said 
Mr. Palmer. "I rather think Mr. Mans- 
field must have suspected something of 
198 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

the sort, for lie lias been to me asking, in 
the event of your not playing it, that I give 
it to him. I have never seen Mr. Mans- 
field act ; he has not had much experience 
here, and might ruin the production." 

At Mr. Palmer's earnest solicitation, I 
promised to try it again. I had by this 
time worked myself into such a state of 
nervousness that my wife interfered. l ' All 
the theaters in the world," said she, "are 
not worth what you are suffering. Go and 
tell Mr. Palmer you positively cannot play 
the part." Fearing the outcome, I did not 
risk another interview with my manager, 
but sought out Mr. Cazauran, and returned 
the part to him, with a message to Mr. 
Palmer that I positively declined to 
play it. 

The result was that Mr. Mansfield was 
put in my place. He rehearsed the part 
next day, and, with only a brief time for 
study and few rehearsals, made his appear- 
ance in it on January 10, 1883. The 
result is well known. His success was in- 
stantaneous and emphatic— so much so 
that from then until now Baron Chevrial 
199 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

lias remained one of his strongest embodi- 
ments. Mr. Palmer was delighted, and 
I consoled myself with the thought that 
my refusal of the part had proved not 
only far better for the interests of the 
production, but was also the immediate 
cause of giving an early opportunity to 
one who has since done much for the stage. 

During the run of "The Parisian Ro- 
mance" Mr. Palmer engaged some extra 
people, and Miss Sara Jewett and I were 
sent to the old Windsor Theater in the 
Bowery to give performances of "The 
Long Strike/' after which we played it at 
the Broadway Theater, also in Newark 
and other cities. The Union Square season 
ending, we started again on our annual 
tour for the summer months, playing in 
Boston, Chicago, Denver, Salt Lake City, 
and San Francisco. Mr. Mansfield was 
now a regular member of the company, 
and accompanied us. 

I had expected npon my first visit to 
the Pacific coast that I should not find 
many to whom I was professionally famil- 
iar. So I was somewhat surprised on this 
200 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

trip, while walking in Market Street one 
afternoon, to hear a gentleman remark to 
his companion, in passing : "Why, there 's 
old Stoddart." Evidently old New-York- 
ers, and familiar with the old days, of whom 
one finds many throughout the country. 

Our next season at the Union Square 
began with Bartley Campbell's play called 
"Separation," a good production and a 
long run. Charles Coghlan reappeared, 
and the cast also included Parselle, Joseph 
Whiting, Felix Morris, Eleanor Carey, 
Maud Harrison, Effie Ellsler, Mrs. Phillips, 
Stoddart, etc. When "Separation" had 
run its course Mr. Coghlan left the com- 
pany, and it was our last professional 
meeting. I don't know that I ever met 
an actor that I admired more. During 
the run of "A Celebrated Case " I had fre- 
quent long talks with him. He was kind 
enough to speak well of my efforts on more 
than one occasion. I knew he was sincere, 
so regarded it as a compliment. "Appro- 
bation from Sir Hubert Stanley is praise 
indeed." He would tell me of his London 
career : of his association with George 
201 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYEE 

Hovey, whom I had met in my young 
days in Scotland ; of Tom Robertson ; and 
of the delightful productions at Marie 
Wilton's Theater. Poor fellow ! A rare 
actor and a thorough gentleman— what a 
pity to be cut off so suddenly while still in 
his vigor ! During this season Mr. Palmer 
went abroad, and the firm of Shook & 
Collier ; composed of Sheridan Shook and 
James W. Collier, took possession of the 
theater. They retained it for nearly two 
seasons, but were not as successful as they 
deserved to be. Sheridan Shook had long 
been associated with the theater. He was 
a straightforward, good-hearted man, bluff 
and without polish, but generous to a 
fault, and many were beholden to him 
for frequent kindnesses that never became 
known. It was my privilege to be inti- 
mately acquainted with him in those days. 
During Shook & Collier's occupancy 
" Storm -beaten" was produced in fine style. 
John H. Barnes— " Handsome Jack," as he 
was called— was brought from London as 
leading man. "The Prisoner for Life," 
the next production, was notable for its 
202 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

scenic effects. I ( remember poor Sara 
Jewett was out of her element in these 
lurid melodramas ; but the climax of her 
discomfort was reached in a farcical affair 
called " Three Wives to One Husband." 
There was in this a noisy burlesque scene 
where many of the characters were, for 
some purpose, behaving in an outrageous 
manner, kicking up a row and knocking 
the furniture about, all leading up to some 
absurdly comic climax. Poor Miss Jewett 
was given a brass coal-scuttle and pair of 
tongs, and at certain cues had to beat upon 
the scuttle with the tongs as a means of 
augmenting the uproar. I was at her 
elbow doing something equally absurd, 
and can even now see her look of despair 
as she said in a helpless aside : "Oh, Mr. 
Stoddart, after what we have seen on this 
stage! Oh,"— bang, bang!— "is n't this 
dreadful ! " Miss Jewett, who was a niece 
of an eminent New York physician, Dr. 
Flint, had a charming personality and was 
beloved by her associates. In her death 
the stage lost a popular young actress and 
a lady of culture and refinement. 
203 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

I remained with Shook & Collier until 
they gave up the theater in 1884. In the 
meantime Mr. Palmer had returned to 
America and assumed the management of 
the Madison Square Theater in Twenty- 
fourth Street. He had arranged with Mr. 
Henry Arthur Jones to bring out his play 
of "Saints and Sinners." He sent for me 
and offered me an engagement, which I 
accepted, as I had ascertained from Mr. 
Shook that he meant to retire from the 
theatrical business ; so I signed a three 
years' contract with Mr. Palmer for the 
Madison Square Theater Company. Mr. 
Jones had come from London personally 
to direct the rehearsals of " Saints and 
Sinners/' and read the play to the com- 
pany. It underwent alteration before its 
production in New York. I was fortunate, 
in joining the company again, to meet a 
number of old associates. Mrs. Booth, 
Mrs. Phillips, Le Moyne, Robinson, Frank 
Drew, and Davidge were old friends ; but 
Herbert Kelcey, Louis Masson, Miss Annie 
Russell, and Marie Burroughs were stran- 
gers to me. Miss Burroughs I thought a 
204 











: QtL 






jA 








^BK^ 




* fl V 






s 









Sara Jewett. 



BECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYEK 

very beautiful woman. I remember after 
the reading she expressed a desire to play 
the part of Lettie Fletcher, the minister's 
daughter ; but being at that time almost a 
novice, she was afraid that she would not 
get it, that Mr. Jones and Mr. Palmer 
would hesitate to intrust her with it. 
Other ladies of more experience also had 
an eye upon the part. All the characters 
had been allotted for some time before a 
selection was made as to Lettie. At last 
Mr. Masson, a member of the company 
and Miss Burroughs's husband, was given 
the part, one evening, and told that his 
wife was to play it. Masson tells the 
story that upon reaching home he found 
her in bed. "Marie," he said, bursting 
into the room, "I have good news for you. 
You play Lettie Fletcher. Here is the part." 
His wife, he said, jumped out of bed and 
danced a hornpipe on the spot. The selec- 
tion was certainly a good one. She looked 
a picture, and, moreover, astonished us by 
the intensity of her acting. A friend of 
mine, on witnessing the performance with 
Kelcey as the attractive villain making 
205 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYEB 

love to Miss Burroughs, cried enthusias- 
tically, "Are n't they a handsome pair? I 
know he is a villain, but I believe I would 
run away with him myself." The piece 
was finely cast. Le Moyne gave a splendid 
performance as Hoggard, as did also E. M. 
Holland as Lot Burden, while Davidge, 
Drew, Flockton, and Mrs. Phillips were 
each admirable. I felt quite at home in 
the character of Jacob Fletcher, the min- 
ister, and was much gratified in receiving 
from Mr. Jones a complimentary letter 
saying the production in America sur- 
passed that given in London. 

The Madison Square Theater at that 
time was fitted with a practical or double 
stage, the invention of Steele Mackaye, 
which worked upon the elevator principle. 
As each act ended, one stage descended and 
the other, that had been set for the next act, 
came down and took its place, thus obvi- 
ating the necessity of long waits. One eve- 
ning, during the most pathetic scene of the 
play, — that in which the minister hears of 
his daughter's flight, — when I was plunged 
in the deepest grief, by some mistake of 
206 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

the carpenter the stage upon which we were 
acting began to descend, and it continued 
to do so until only my head and shoulders 
were visible to the audience. I kept up 
my grief, however, until the mistake was 
rectified, and by the time I had reached 
the climax the stage was in its proper 
position. Of course the seriousness of the 
situation was done for. The other mem- 
bers seemed to enjoy it all from the wings 
quite as much as did the audience ; I think 
I was the only one who did not see the 
joke. The play had a prosperous run, and 
at the end of the season Mr. Palmer re- 
peated his former policy of taking the 
company on tour to other cities, extend- 
ing the trip to San Francisco. All the 
principals, including Kelcey, Masson, Le 
Moyne, Davidge, Miss Russell, and myself, 
were among the members. We were sent 
this time by a different route, the Rio 
Grande, which was then, I believe, a nar- 
row-gage road. I shall always remember 
the beauty of the scenery along this jour- 
ney, much more beautiful and romantic, I 
think, than that visible along the route of 
207 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

the Central Pacific. In some respects it 
was not so pleasant, for, owing to the high 
altitude at portions of the journey, the 
lightness of the air caused some discom- 
fort among the ladies. Miss Burroughs 
and Miss Russell were particularly af- 
fected, even to the point of fainting dead 
away and being picked up like babies and 
carried to their berths. We played in San 
Francisco first this year, stopping at Sacra- 
mento, Salt Lake, Denver, Omaha, and 
other cities on our return trip. 

In Chicago "The Martyr" was pro- 
duced, and also " Jim the Penman." The 
first was a moderate success, the latter a 
tremendous one. The same fortune at- 
tended both plays when produced in New 
York : "The Martyr " did very little, while 
a Jim the Penman" ran the season. It 
was a very easy time for me, as I was not 
cast in the latter play. I was living in 
the country, and for an entire season came 
into the city only once a week, and that 
on salary day. Thus my position was 
quite a sinecure, and although it was not 
altogether a pleasant reflection that I was 
208 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

paid liberally without rendering any re- 
turn, still, as the theater was making 
money and my manager met me so pleas- 
antly every pay-day, the qualms of con- 
science did not unduly disturb me. So 
after receiving— I won't say the reward of 
merit, but my stipend, I returned cheer- 
fully to my farm, only leaving it again to 
repeat the same pleasant operation the 
following week. At the conclusion of the 
prosperous run of "Jim the Penman 77 and 
of my long term of inactivity, engage- 
ments were played, I think, at nearly all 
of the places which we visited annually ; 
but nothing unusual occurred during this 
time. 

"Jim the Penman 77 having proved so 
prosperous, of course it became the chief 
attraction of our repertory. Our summer 
season ended, we opened the home theater 
on November 10, 1887, with a production 
of "The Martyr. 77 I was somewhat disap- 
pointed in the way it was received, for 
although it did not draw particularly well 
in Chicago, it seemed to make a very 
favorable impression, and was highly 
" 209 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

spoken of by the press. It proved, how- 
ever, to be of too melodramatic and somber 
a character to snit the patrons of the 
Madison Square Theater. 

We produced a very pretty play called 
"Heart of Hearts " at the Madison Square 
on January 16, 1888. I had a long and a 
very good part in it. I remember this 
play more vividly than any other of my 
experience; for it was played in the year 
of the great blizzard. I was living, at the 
time, on my farm in New Jersey, and on a 
Monday afternoon, in the height of the 
great storm, I left home for the theater 
some hours before my usual time, fearing 
difficulty in reaching the city. The snow, 
however, was so deep and the sleet and 
snow driving in such a furious and blind- 
ing manner that I could scarcely see a rod 
before my face, and the cold was intense. 
I had a splendid strong man with me who 
had been a Danish soldier and feared no- 
thing. We started in a two-wheeled cart, 
thinking that the best sort of vehicle to 
get through the drifts for the station at 
Rahway, two miles away. We had pro- 
210 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

ceeded but a short distance before, in 
plunging through the drifts, the shafts of 
the cart broke short off. Nothing daunted, 
we returned to the stables, and directing 
the man to saddle two of my horses, I 
determined to endeavor to get through on 
horseback; so, mounting, we started the 
second time. The drifts of snow were up 
to the horses' shoulders, but being strong 
animals they plunged through it for some 
distance, until, reaching the house of a 
farmer about half-way to the village, the 
animals gave up and could go no farther. 
I cannot begin to describe the difficulties 
and the pain we suffered. I wore a huge 
comforter around my shoulders and face, 
and that, together with my gloves, and in 
fact all my garments, were as stiff as a 
board with ice and snow. The horses 
being completely fagged out, we were 
obliged to put them into the farmer's 
stable. 

As I was determined, however, to reach 

the theater at all hazards, I directed my 

man Hans to remain with the horses at 

the farmer's until he could get them home 

211 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYEK 

again, and I started alone to reach the 
railway-station on foot. I will not try to 
describe my difficulties on the way. The 
distance was about three quarters of a 
mile. I was frequently up to my waist in 
drifts of snow, holding on to the top of the 
picket fences as I crawled along. Finally 
I reached the village and the railroad-sta- 
tion, only to find that all communication 
by rail had stopped. The telegraph wires 
were all down, and communication with 
the city therefore cut off; so I could do 
nothing. I went to the hotel, where I 
remained for two days, being able neither 
to reach the city nor my home j and when 
at last I reached New York, I could 
scarcely recognize it. Broadway looked 
like the arctic regions with its mountains 
of snow, which in many places were tun- 
neled and fires built underneath to get rid 
of the enormous drifts. The theater was 
closed one night, so I missed one perform- 
ance of " Heart of Hearts," and reported 
for duty the third day after the storm. 

On April 2 "Partners" was produced, 
with young Salvini in the leading role, in 
212 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

which he gave a very fine performance. 
The rest of the cast was made up of all the 
principal members. "Partners " ended the 
season, and then began our usual summer 
tour, which opened at the Chicago Opera 
House, the first time the company had 
ever played in that theater. At the con- 
clusion of the engagement the members 
made their usual preparations for the Cali- 
fornia trip. It was thought necessary to 
purchase a few essential things, such as 
fruit and other delicacies. Most of us, 
too, donned costumes suitable for crossing 
the desert. I remember William Davidge's 
get-up caused us much amusement. He 
wore the most eccentric suit of clothes and 
a sort of helmet hat, also carrying half a 
dozen palm-leaf fans and a large basket of 
fruit and provisions. "What do you think 
of this make-up, boys?" he said. "No 
fear of the alkali spoiling these things, is 
there % " Davidge laughed, as we all did. 
I little thought of what was soon to hap- 
pen, little thought that death was so soon 
to take from us one whom I had known 
and acted with so long. 
213 



EECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYEK 

Although Davidge liad been in ill 
health before we started, he was anxions 
again to take the trip. He had told me 
before starting that Mr. Palmer tried to 
persuade him not to go, warning him that 
on account of his advanced age he was not 
strong enough to stand the fatigue of the 
journey. He was so persistent, however, 
that Mr. Palmer yielded, and he joined the 
company. We had our usual private car 
on this trip, and all went well until we 
reached Cheyenne in Wyoming. Davidge 
had been engaged during the day in a 
heated political discussion with some of 
the gentlemen, and had become much ex- 
cited. In the evening, to please him,— for 
he believed so implicitly in everything 
that was English,— the members of the 
company had been singing "God Save the 
Queen," and Davidge had joined in the 
chorus with the greatest vigor, and retired 
in high spirits. His berth was next to 
mine. At about one o'clock in the morning 
I was awakened by his heavy and labored 
breathing. It seemed that he was almost 
strangling. The whole company became 
214 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

alarmed. He gasped out a request for 
more air. Salvini, Masson, Presbrey, aud 
I supported him to the rear platform 
of the car, which was stationary, as the 
train lay over at Cheyenne for an hour or 
so. He looked around, saying, "Oh, my 
God, surely I am not going to die here, 
away from them all ! " Salvini picked him 
up like a child and carried him into the 
smoker, where we poured brandy down 
his throat, tearing open his night-dress 
and rubbing his breast with the liquor. 
"Breathe— breathe," Salvini urged, as he 
rubbed him with the liquor. Davidge 
looked at us all vacantly ; his last words 
were : "Boys, good-by." Never until my 
dying day shall I forget his look as the 
shadows of death dropped like a veil over 
his face. The moon shining outside made 
it all as bright as day, while for miles in 
the distance nothing could be seen but the 
sage-brush of the desert. They improvised 
a sort of stretcher, and laying poor Davidge 
upon it, four of the company carried him 
to the undertaker's shop at Cheyenne. 
We kept upon our journey west, and our 
215 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

poor friend was sent back to New York— 
a sad home-coming for his dear ones ! 

I had known him for many, many years. 
When I was a boy with Alexander in Glas- 
gow, Davidge was a great favorite in Edin- 
burgh, and on my arrival in America I 
found him quite as popular in New York. 
To those who did not know him his pecu- 
liarities were sometimes a little irritating ; 
but he was a large-hearted man, ever ready 
to assist the deserving, and to the end of 
his life was most anxious to remain em- 
ployed, so that those depending on his 
exertions should want for nothing. He 
was ever a devoted husband and father, 
and a stanch friend. 

On December 4, 1888, "Captain Swift" 
received its first performance. Mr. 
Boucicault had made a number of altera- 
tions in the play, and directed its perform- 
ance. Maurice Barrymore, in the princi- 
pal part, made a hit, and the play had a 
long and prosperous run, proving one of 
the strongest attractions both in New York 
and on the road. Mrs. Booth did some 
very effective work in this play, as did 
216 




Dion Boueieault. 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYEE 

also E. M. Holland, who had a good part. 
Maude Harrison, Robinson, Harry Wood- 
ruff, and Annie Eussell were also well cast. 
The part of Marshall, which fell to me, had 
originally been played as a young man, 
but was rewritten to suit my years, and 
was made a foster-father instead of a son. 
I had a realistic struggle to do with 
Barrymore in one scene, and one day at a 
matinee performance we went at it with 
such earnestness that we both displaced 
our wigs j Barrymore's slipped down the 
back of his neck, and mine cocked over 
my eye. The young ladies in the or- 
chestra seats seemed to enjoy our unpleas- 
ant position, and giggled throughout the 
scene. Barrymore was angry for a mo- 
ment or two at the mishap, but laughed 
heartily on reaching our dressing-room. 
To me Barrymore was one of the bright- 
est and most entertaining men I ever 
met— a bohemian in many respects, but 
generous to a fault. His performance 
of Captain Swift I considered masterly. 
He was a most amusing companion, with 
an inexhaustible supply of anecdotes. 
217 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

Often while on the road I have known the 
company (after the evening's perform- 
ance) to sit up till break of day, held spell- 
bound by his brilliant talk and happy wit. 
About this time I made up my mind 
that amateur farming and fruit-growing 
was not the most rapid way of obtaining 
fortune, so I parted with my farm. My 
pear orchard had proved sadly disappoint- 
ing, but anticipation of a better result was 
for many years a fruitful source of plea- 
sure. My love for the country has, how- 
ever, never diminished, but I am contented 
to indulge it upon a smaller scale ; so even 
now I may be seen wending my way to 
Sewaren, another home place in New 
Jersey, where I have— at least, I think so 
—a charming cottage overlooking Staten 
Island Sound, of course a garden, a yacht, 
and many dear friends with whom I hope 
still to pass many pleasant days. Of course 
the place that we had built up, beautified, 
and made our home for twenty years, 
where our children had grown from "wee 
tots" to manhood and womanhood, was left 
with great regret. Beyond old associa- 
218 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

tion and the beauty of my home there 
was little else to make the place attractive. 
We had one or two pleasant neighbors, but 
beyond them the country was populated 
(and very sparsely) by the typical small 
Jersey farmer— a very good sort of per- 
son if you only understand him, but very 
inquisitive, wanting to know all about 
your circumstances, your occupation, and 
if you have a mortgage on your farm. It 
would surprise one to be told that a person 
born within twenty miles of New York 
had never seen that city, and yet was 
eighty years old. My brother George and 
I were standing in my pear orchard one 
day when there appeared the oddest- 
looking old fellow we had ever seen— a 
veritable Rip Van Winkle. He looked a 
hundred. His long hair and beard were 
as white as milk, and he held in his hand 
a long stick of oak. He lived not many 
miles from my place, and yet seemed to 
have discovered a new country. He came 
up to us and said, "Is this your place?" 
I told him I thought it was. "Well," 
said he, "if old Jonathan Bloomfield could 
219 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

come out of his grave lie 'd never have 
knowed it; and yet he was born here. 
And what might be yonr business?" I 
told him I was employed in New York. 
"Well," says he, "I ain't never been to 
New York. And yet I ' ve been a traveler, 
too : I 've been to Trenton." His bleared 
eyes wandered through my orchard. i l For 
land's sake," he said, "what air you going 
to do with all them pears % " I put an end 
to the interview by stuffing his pockets 
with fruit, and he went hobbling through 
the gate muttering, "Well, well, well, old 
Jonathan Bloomfield's place. I never 
would have knowed it." 

During Mr. Palmer's visits to Chicago 
his company played in all the different 
principal theaters there : Haverly's, now 
converted into a national bank 5 atHooley's 
many times ; the Grand Opera House ;' and 
for one season at the Chicago Opera House, 
now devoted to vaudeville ; also innumer- 
able times at McYickar's and at the Co- 
lumbia Theater ; and all, I think, proved 
profitable to the management. On one of 
our visits, I forget in which year, we were 
220 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

acting at Hooley's Theater, when, on ac- 
count of the riots then disturbing the city, 
all places of amusement were ordered to 
close ; in fact, all business was suspended. 
It was a most exciting time. The police 
proved incapable of coping with the 
mob, so the militia was called out, which 
seemed only to incense the people the 
more. In fact, the militiamen were chased 
through the streets and pelted from the 
roofs of houses. It was dangerous to be 
in the streets. But toward the end of the 
week a company of regulars arrived in 
the city. I shall never forget their ap- 
pearance—so different from the city sol- 
diers. They had come by a forced march 
from the plains ; their regimentals were 
faded and worn, and their faces the color 
of mahogany. With fixed bayonets they 
advanced quickly upon the rioters, who 
fled before them like sheep, and in a very 
brief time all disturbance was at an end. 
Business soon resumed, and all the theaters 
were quickly in full blast again. 

We opened again in New York on Oc- 
tober 30, 1889, with "Aunt Jack." This 
221 



I 

RECOLLECTION'S OF A PLAYER 

play had enjoyed a long run in London, 
with Mrs. John Wood in the chief part 
—played by Mrs. Agnes Booth on its 
production here. The play was a great 
success, and enjoyed a long run. Mr. 
Palmer made arrangements to give a 
matinee performance of it in Washington, 
without omitting the regular evening 
performance. A special train on the 
Pennsylvania Railroad was chartered and 
the track kept clear for us. I don't think 
I ever before rode so fast. We reached 
Washington at the appointed time, and 
Mr. Palmer had prepared for us a banquet 
after the performance, having taken which, 
we started back for New York. On our 
arrival we went straight from the train to 
the theater, having our dinner served to 
us in the green-room ; then we went to 
work for the evening performance. The 
play never went better than on these two 
occasions ; the trip, instead of fatiguing 
the company, had, I think, a tendency to 
enliven us. 

At the end of the season the company 
started again to California. Agnes Booth, 
222 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

however, did not accompany us, but was 
replaced by Ada Dyas. We always had 
long engagements in "Frisco," continuing 
each play one week. Miss Dyas was a 
favorite both with the public and her 
associates. I always enjoyed my trips to 
the Pacific coast. It was so pleasant to 
escape the summer heat of the East. The 
audiences there are warm and apprecia- 
tive. If they only take to an actor, no- 
thing is left undone to make his stay 
pleasant and comfortable. I have there 
many very dear friends. I was quite ac- 
customed to spend the early part of the 
day visiting the Cliff House, and used to 
delight in looking at Seal Rock and the 
seals swimming and diving into the water, 
all the while barking like dogs. The 
largest ships, too, I had ever seen came 
to San Francisco while I was there. I 
would often wander down to the docks to 
see the great four-masted iron vessels, de- 
lighting to read their names and learn 
where they hailed from. Thus occupied 
one day, I discovered a ship which came 
from Glasgow. The name immediately 
223 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

appealed to me, and as I stood gazing 
upon her, a wee chap with a white head 
and a red shirt came down the gangway, 
carrying a bucket in his hand. I could 
not resist speaking to him. " Ah, my wee 
mon," I said, dropping into the phrase- 
ology of my youth, "ye are frae Glasgow." 
"Oh, aye," says he, "an' I wish to the Lord 
I was back again." The entrance into San 
Francisco through the Golden Gate is 
truly magnificent. The city itself is most 
cosmopolitan, as all nationalities are to be 
found in "Frisco." 

On each visit I spent some time in 
Chinatown, always going to the Chinese 
Theater to see a performance, as there is 
a great deal of courtesy extended by the 
management to American actors. On one 
occasion the manager would insist on my- 
self and others of our ladies and gentle- 
men sitting on the stage during one of the 
performances. It was funny to see how 
dreadfully in earnest the actors were— 
killing each other with wooden swords and 
dying on the stage, then getting up and 
walking off. We all thought we had seen 
224 




Mrs. John Wood. 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

the end of the play, but were told, on leav- 
ing the theater, that it lasted for a whole 
week. Although we had enj oyed it much, 
none of us cared to sit out the entire per- 
formance. 

At the end of our San Francisco engage- 
ment (1892) the company visited portions 
of southern California, making a delightful 
trip. We played in Los Angeles, Santa 
Barbara, Riverside, and other towns. I 
was surprised to find how many New York 
people had settled in this region, possess- 
ing the most beautiful homes. On our 
arrival at Santa Barbara we were met by 
a party of gentlemen who treated us in 
the most courteous and friendly manner, 
having two large coaches in readiness in 
anticipation of our coming. I was told 
that we were known by most of the people, 
although it was our first visit. They drove 
us to the hotel, and insisted that later in 
the afternoon they should show us around 
the place, so that we might "see the 
sights," and most of the ladies and gentle- 
men of the company availed themselves of 
the courteous invitation. Years before 
15 225 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

I had heard Miss Clara Morris say that 
she thought Santa Barbara (she had spent 
two summers there) was "God's own spot." 
I thought myself, upon first beholding it, 
that her description was very apt. The 
situation of the place and the climate, to- 
gether with the character and refinement 
of the people, tend to make it an ideal 
resort. Among other sights, not the least 
interesting was a visit which we made to 
a very old monastery, a picturesque and 
antiquated structure standing on a bluff 
and overlooking the sea. It was inhabited 
by real live monks with their long gray 
gowns and cowls, beads and sandals. I 
had quite an interesting talk with one of 
them, a very old man, who gave me a his- 
tory of the place. The clearness of the 
sky, the mildness of the air, the lovely sea- 
view, and our pleasant acquaintance with 
the old monastery and its inmates, created 
an impression which will always linger in 
my mind. The theater was in an out-of- 
the-way portion of the city, and not a 
very attractive place when we reached it ; 
but its location seemed to make little 
226 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

difference, for the audience was a brilliant 
one. One really might have supposed that 
we were holding forth in a Broadway 
theater, so cordial and friendly was the 
reception given those who had long been 
identified with the New York stage. It 
confirmed my former opinion that a repu- 
tation gained in the city of New York 
makes one pretty well known throughout 
the country. 

Another great treat was afforded by 
our visit to Riverside. It seemed almost 
as if the people at Santa Barbara had 
journeyed hither with our company, so 
similar in friendliness was our reception 
here. We found Riverside also almost 
exclusively composed of people from the 
East. This part of California is so beau- 
tiful one can scarcely help envying the 
fortunate settlers. A gentleman from New 
York who remembered me in the Wal- 
lack time years ago, and who, like many 
others, had sought southern California 
for the benefit of his health, kindly took 
me in hand, showing me all the objects of 
interest in the vicinity. There is here a 
227 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

lovely driveway known as Magnolia Ave- 
nue, taking its name from a magnificent 
row of magnolia-trees extending through 
the center of the road throughout its en- 
tire length of some four or five miles, the 
avenue itself being of a width of about 
two hundred feet. On either side may be 
seen the most charming villas and cottages, 
all standing in the midst of orange groves. 
The trees with their hanging fruit and the 
subtle odor of. the blossoms so charmed 
my senses that I felt I should be quite 
content to live there even at the sacrifice 
of some of my good health. As was the 
case at Santa Barbara, the theater was 
crowded with a fashionable and friendly 
audience. The company took their de- 
parture next morning with much regret 
at bidding adieu to southern California. 

We played our way back, stopping over 
at Kansas City, Omaha, and Chicago, Mr. 
Palmer joining us at the latter city. He 
had just returned from London, where he 
had seen and purchased a play with which 
he was delighted, entitled "A Pair of 
Spectacles." In London it had been 
228 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

played at Mr. Hare's theater and proved 
a very great success. The part of Ben- 
jamin Goldfinch had been acted by Mr. 
John Hare, with the well-known Charles 
Groves in the role of Gregory— both fine 
parts. E. M. Holland and I were the 
originals in America. Mr. Palmer was in 
doubt as to which of the two parts I should 
play, but he finally cast me for Benjamin 
Goldfinch and Holland for Gregory. We 
had no vacation, but traveled until the 
opening of the New York season on Octo- 
ber 30, 1890. While we were playing an 
engagement at the Broad Street Theater 
in Philadelphia, Mr. Palmer came on and 
directed the rehearsals of " A Pair of Spec- 
tacles." What with continual travel and 
playing long parts nightly, I found the 
study of so long a part as Goldfinch a task, 
and as the time approached for our open- 
ing in New York with the piece, I found 
myself ill with apprehension. I went to 
Mr. Palmer and explained my feelings to 
him, with the result that, as usual, he met 
me in the kindest manner, admonishing 
me not to worry, and assuring me that 
229 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

until I came to him and said that I felt 
quite easy in the words the play should 
not be produced. This was only another 
instance of Mr. Palmer's kind forbearance 
and consideration. I think, however, that 
he fully understood that whatever trouble 
I gave him was occasioned more by my 
nervous temperament than by any wish to 
shirk my duty. The production of this 
play was forestalled by another version of 
the same story, which was done a short 
time before our opening. I suppose it 
may have hurt our production a little, 
but those who stole a march upon us did 
themselves no good, either in an artistic 
or a pecuniary sense. "A Pair of Spec- 
tacles" was a delightful little play, but 
while it achieved a fair measure of success, 
it certainly did not receive the support 
its merit deserved. Personally I have 
never played a part more to my liking 
than was my role in this play. 

On April 1, 1891, "Alabama," a play 

from the pen of Augustus Thomas, was 

produced. Its immediate success was, I 

fancy, a surprise, for I, as well as other 

230 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYEK 

members of the company, had understood 
that the management had not a great 
opinion of its merits. However, be that 
as it may, after the first performance there 
remained not the slightest doubt as to its 
popularity. Many regarded the play more 
as a rural poem than as a dramatic com- 
position. As originally produced I have 
certainly never seen a sweeter little play, 
and it had about it the native languorous 
atmosphere of the South. The scenic ar- 
tists offered a lovely picture, and the effect 
was heightened by the fragrance of magno- 
lia-trees, which was artificially produced. 
Mr. diaries Harris had been engaged to 
strengthen the company, a result which he 
certainly achieved. Who that has seen 
his Squire Tucker can ever forget it? It 
was one of the best performances in its 
way I have ever seen. In Colonel Moberly, 
too, Mr. Holland had a part that suited 
him to perfection, and Maurice Barrymore 
and Mrs. Agnes Booth were at their best 
as Captain Armstrong and Mrs. Page. Agnes 
Miller, also, brought a sweet and capti- 
vating personality to the part of Carey, 
231 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

the young Southern girl. In this play 
Reuben Fax appeared as an old colored 
retainer, and made in it the first hit of 
his professional life. I played the part of 
Colonel Preston, and, barring my Southern 
dialect, or the lack of it, I think the part 
suited me well. In fact, the cast was almost 
perfect. The run was unfortunately in- 
terrupted by the fact that the Madison 
Square Theater had been sublet for a sum- 
mer production to Mr. Tom MacDonough, 
and, as he refused to give up his dates, 
" Alabama" was forced to withdraw in the 
height of its success, and the company went 
on tour, beginning with an engagement at 
Washington. We traveled all the sum- 
mer, and played at Hooley's in Chicago 
for several weeks in " Alabama." During 
this trip we made our first visit to Tacoma, 
Seattle, and Portland, in all of which cities 
we played brilliant engagements. I shall 
always remember our trip up the Colum- 
bia River, which occupied an entire day. 
The scenery, added to its native grandeur, 
had for us the charm of novelty. I saw 
more salmon in this stream in a few hours 
232 




Charles L. Harris as Squire Tucker in " Alabama. 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

than I had ever seen in all my life before, 
and yet my experience in Scotland in that 
way had been considerable. Our party, 
too, this season was an exceptionally jolly 
one. Barrymore, Holland, and Harris 
could usually banish dull care under al- 
most any circumstances, but on this par- 
ticular trip they seemed to outdo them- 
selves in pleasantry. Charley Harris was 
a New Orleans man, and was brimful of 
Southern anecdotes. I am sure it would 
have been worth the price of admission to 
any theater to have seen and heard him 
on this occasion. He sang many of the 
old negro songs, the company joining in 
the chorus, and sang them so characteris- 
tically, and told so many droll darky 
stories, that it convulsed not only his 
associates, but most of the boat's crew, 
who had gathered around to hear. We 
reached Portland in the evening, and found 
it a delightful city, and our quarters at a 
magnificent hotel filled with fashionable 
people. We were surprised at the array 
of beautifully dressed women and modish 
men which our party encountered upon 
233 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

being shown into the dining-room. We 
could see that some of them recognized us 
immediately, for at one of the tables we 
heard it remarked as we passed by : " Why, 
there 's Barrymore. Yes, and Holland. 
And there 's old Mr. Stoddart." We 
learned afterward that there were many 
New-Yorkers present, which accounted 
for our recognition. We played a fine 
engagement, and then worked our way 
back to New York, where we opened the 
next season at Palmer's Theater (formerly 
known as Wallack's) with a reproduction 
of "Alabama." Again the play did well, 
although it was the opinion of most of us 
that had the original production not been 
interrupted it could have run an entire 
season. 

On February 3, 1892, "The Broken Seal" 
was produced. It had been played by Mr. 
Beerbohm Tree, in London, under the title 
of "The Village Priest," and, I believe, suc- 
cessfully. It did not fare so well in Amer- 
ica. It was in this play that Miss Julia 
Arthur made her first appearance with 
the company, and it was also the occasion 
234 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

of the first appearance of Mr. James K. 
Hackett in a part of any prominence on 
the professional stage, although as an 
amateur he had been well known for some 
time. 

In April of this year, and during the 
run of this play, I received the saddest 
blow of my life in the death of my dear 
wife ; and my necessary absence from the 
performances gave to Mr. Hackett an op- 
portunity which he much desired, for he 
was put on in my place. 

After this season the company went on 
tour again, and were kept traveling for 
nearly two years. Miss Arthur was now 
a regular member of the company, and 
E. J. Henley had also joined, as had Miss 
Ida Conquest, who at this time began her 
theatrical career with Mr. Palmer. The 
company played in all the principal cities, 
including a long engagement in Chicago, 
where we made a reproduction of " Ala- 
bama" at the Columbia Theater. After 
visiting the Western cities we extended 
the tour into the Southern States, visiting 
St. Louis, Louisville, Memphis, and New 
235 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

Orleans. At the latter place we found 
Miss Effie Ellsler playing at the Opera 
House, and my old friend C. W. Couldock 
a member of her company. We lived at 
the same hotel, and had many pleasant 
chats together. Couldock was full of 
reminiscences, and could tell a story in 
the drollest manner and with as good 
effect as any one I have ever met. He 
was well known in New Orleans and had 
a great many friends, whom it was his 
custom to meet after the performance, 
often insisting upon my going with him. 
Upon these occasions Couldock would keep 
us all greatly amused for hours with his 
experiences of bygone days. 

After New Orleans we retraced our 
steps, revisiting many of the cities, "Ala- 
bama " being our chief attraction. Charley 
Harris at this time began to Complain of 
illness, and although he traveled con- 
stantly with the company, he acted only 
occasionally. He looked so strong and 
hearty it seemed hard to realize that he 
was afflicted with a fatal malady. His 
absence from the cast made such a differ - 
236 




C. W. Couldock. 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

ence in the performance that I now re- 
proach myself with having on more than 
one occasion tried to laugh him out of his 
indisposition and persuade him to act. I 
remember, in one place, it was nearly time 
to go to the theater, and I waited for him 
at the hotel where we were living, and 
said, "Come along, Charley ; it 's time to go 
to the theater " ; to which he replied, with 
tears in his eyes, "For God's sake, Gov- 
ernor, don't ask me to act to-night ; you 
don't know how ill I feel." It was the 
truth, for he never played again. It so 
happened that a friend for whom he had 
done much years before was at the same 
hotel, and insisted on taking him in charge. 
The company moved on in the morning^ 
leaving poor Harris with his friend, and 
the next time we saw him he was in the 
Chicago Hospital. We learned that there 
was no hope for his life. Some members 
of the company visited him every day, and 
he wanted for nothing. Throughout all 
he was brave and uncomplaining, and the 
nurses at the hospital were untiring in 
their attention and so gentle in their 
237 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

treatment that the company, in recogni- 
tion of their kindness, subscribed for and 
presented to them a little testimonial as 
a mark of appreciation. Shortly after- 
ward poor Harris died, and thus ended the 
earthly career of a whole-souled, genial 
fellow. Not many months before he had 
been the life of our little party, with his 
songs and his stories, as we sailed up the 
Columbia River. 

Mr. Palmer had made an arrangement 
with Al Hayman to play his company in 
San Francisco for a sort of stock season, 
presenting its entire repertoire. Mr. 
Wilton Lackaye now joined as leading 
man, and we played for ten or twelve 
weeks, presenting all the old plays, and 
also producing in quite an elaborate man- 
ner Henry Arthur Jones's "The Dancing 
Girl." The season, however, did not prove 
so successful as former ones, perhaps be- 
cause the times were not so good. Upon 
our return we played in all the important 
cities, and again went South. The open- 
ing of the next season was with the produc- 
tion of a play in which I was not cast, and 
238 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

in the meantime I received a letter from 
Salt Lake asking me to go there and play 
for a week with an amateur organization 
in "Saints and Sinners." As the offer was 
a liberal one, and Mr. Palmer consented, 
I went. " Saints and Sinners " had always 
been a favorite play in Salt Lake. Al- 
though it was quite a long journey to take 
for a week's engagement, I was amply re- 
paid by the warmth of my reception and 
the kindly courtesy extended to me during 
my brief visit. We had only two rehear- 
sals, and it really would have astonished 
many old professionals to have seen the 
careful attention, earnestness, and abil- 
ity displayed by my Mormon associates. 
The play was excellently staged and well 
performed. The parts of Lettie Fletcher 
and Hoggard were acted by near relatives 
of Brigham Young, and Ealph Kingsley 
was played by Mr. Heber Wells, the pres- 
ent governor of Utah, and in a manner 
that would have been creditable to any 
experienced actor. Mr. Whitney, editor 
of the Salt Lake " Herald," was stage-man- 
ager, business man, and in fact general 
239 



KECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYEB, 

factotum of the enterprise. Mr. Palmer 
had played his company for a great many 
years in Salt Lake while on its way to the 
coast, and it has always been to me a 
source of pleasure to visit the city. The 
company's visits had ever been anticipated 
and arrangements for their stay made, so as 
to render it pleasant and agreeable. Much 
was done for our amusement, including 
organ recitals at the Mormon Temple, ex- 
cursions to the lake, social receptions, etc. 
When one contemplates what has been 
accomplished in this city in creating as 
it were a garden out of a desert, founding 
and building so beautiful a metropolis, 
bespeaking so much toil, thrift, and in- 
domitable perseverance, it must call for 
sincere admiration and command great 
respect. The week ended, I said good-by 
to my Salt Lake friends with much regret 
and returned to New York. 

After my return I did not again play 
until ISTew Year's eve, 1894, when the 
drama of "The Fatal Card" was produced 
at Palmer's Theater ; I was loaned for this 
production by Mr. Palmer. I had heard 
240 




A. M. Palmer. 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYEK 

rumors that Mr. Palmer would give up 
his theater and retire from management, 
so I sought an interview with him, and 
found that the reports were true. Mr. 
Palmer told me that he found it impos- 
sible now to secure new and attractive 
material for his theater, and so thought 
it better to withdraw. He had been my 
manager for more than half of my Ameri- 
can career ; during all this time he had 
been uniformly kind and generous with 
me, and however great his regret may 
have been in parting with me, I am sure 
it could not exceed mine in saying good-by 
to him. 

After "The Fatal Card" had run its 
course at Palmer's, it was taken to Chi- 
cago, and then back to New York, where 
it was played successfully at the Academy 
of Music until the approach of warm wea- 
ther. The following season I was reen- 
gaged by Mr. Charles Frohman to play 
Joe Aylmer in the original production here 
of "The Sporting Duchess." The play ran 
most of the season at the Academy of 
Music, and was then taken to Philadelphia 
16 241 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

and Boston, where we ended our season 
with it at the Hollis Street Theater. Mr. 
Frank Perley arranged with Mr. Frohman 
to take the piece the following season. 
Mrs. Booth played her original part of the 
Duchess for a while, and on her retirement 
was replaced by Miss Rose Coghlan. Many 
other changes in the cast took place, but 
under Mr. Perley's management the gen- 
eral excellence of the original production 
was kept up. I acted in the play for 
nearly three seasons. 

During its run at the Academy of Music 
Mr. Harry Mann, the business manager, 
came into my dressing-room one evening, 
and informed me that Mr. Frohman and 
my associates contemplated presenting me 
with a loving-cup, and wanted to ascertain 
from me a few facts about my career : how 
long I had been on the stage, and so on. 
As I have never forgotten my debut in 
"The Rent Day " when I was five years 
old, I told Mr. Mann that I had been sixty- 
three years upon the stage. "Good Lord, 
man," he said, "how old are you, anyway ? n 
Of course I explained that I was not actu- 
242 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

ally as old as the statement would seem to 
indicate. The episode of the presentment 
of the cup was an unexpected compliment. 
Mr. Frohman's kind consideration in hav- 
ing my old manager Mr. Palmer make 
the speech of presentation, and his invita- 
tion to all the ladies and gentlemen of the 
various theaters to meet me on the occa- 
sion, and my old manager's complimentary 
remarks upon our long association, to- 
gether with Mr. Jefferson's kind gift 
inscribed "For Auld Lang Syne," are in- 
cidents in my life which will never be 
forgotten. 

During my engagement with Mr. Charles 
Frohman, a friend of long standing had 
been reading with a great deal of pleasure 
the tales of Ian Maclaren, and was particu- 
larly interested in " Beside the Bonnie 
Brier Bush." He came to see me at my 
cottage at Sewaren, and said : "Mr. Stod- 
dart, before you end your theatrical career 
I want to see you play old Doctor MacLure. 
He is a great character." I told him I 
thought it would be difficult to get Dr. 
Watson's consent to having his stories put 
243 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

into dramatic form and produced. "Oh," 
said my friend, "I know Mac Arthur of the 
1 Bookman.' He 's a Glasgow chap and a 
friend of Dr. Watson's, and I am sure he 
can arrange it." But Mac Arthur, like 
myself, thought that Watson, being a 
Scotch minister, would scarcely consent 
to having his stories reproduced for theat- 
rical purposes. My friend was persistent, 
however, and at length prevailed upon 
MacArthur to write to Dr. Watson, and 
we were all surprised and delighted at 
receiving his reply. It was to the effect 
that if the story could be dramatized effec- 
tively and well, he had no objection. On 
receipt of this letter, MacArthur, in con- 
junction with Tom Hall, set to work and 
produced a manuscript which, when com- 
pleted, MacArthur brought out to my 
cottage and read to my daughter and me. 
We liked it. It read well. 

It was the intention to make MacLure 
the prominent character of the piece, and 
the part was written for me. And he cer- 
tainly is the most delightful person in the 
story j but in the play he lacked situation 
244 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

and the dramatic worth of Lachlan Camp- 
bell. I told the authors so, and for some 
time it remained a disputed question which 
of the two parts I should play, which was 
settled only by my refusal to play the 
Doctor. Since its production, I feel that 
I did not err in my judgment. It was 
pointed out to me, and I realized the 
truth of the remark, that during my long 
career I had wept over a rather lengthy 
list of wayward daughters ; in fact, one of 
my friends, quite an admirer, had said : 
"Poor Mr. Stoddart ! I never see him act 
but he is heartbroken over the misconduct 
of some wayward and disobedient child. 
The last time I saw him, in i The Sporting 
Duchess,' he was in a most forlorn condi- 
tion regarding the fate of his daughter 
MaryAylmer; and the time before he was 
completely upset at the imprudent be- 
havior of his child in ' Saints and Sinners.' " 
A little of "the same old man again," I 
confess, but I console myself with the re- 
flection that in my time I have played so 
many rogues and vagabonds, with quite a 
sprinkling of cutthroats and murderers, 
245 



RECOLLECTION'S OF A PLAYER 

that as I near the end of my professional 
life it would be prudent to make my final 
bow in something of a more respectable 
nature. Besides, Lachlan Campbell is not 
altogether a sympathetic or lovable per- 
son 5 before his transformation he is quite 
the reverse. 

I had that fact brought home to me in 
Lancaster, Pennsylvania. One of the stage- 
hands, watching the progress of the piece, 
was highly incensed when, in the second 
act, I erase my daughter's name from the 
Bible and forcibly eject her from the house. 
"Oh, the old devil ! " said he to one of my 
associates. "Them religious fanatics are 
the worst. I 'd like to knock the old vil- 
lain on the head." In the third act, when 
Lachlan sorrows over the loss of his child, 
he found a better place in the esteem of 
that critical gentleman, who, at the end of 
the piece, where Lachlan takes his daughter 
lovingly in his arms, was heard to exclaim, 
"The old man is not so bad, after all." 

"The Bonnie Brier Bush" I regard as 
a pretty little play. It is a simple story, 
and its atmosphere is peculiarly congenial 
246 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

to me, reminding me of that part of Scot- 
land (Perthshire) wherein its scenes are 
laid, and where as a boy I began my career 
as an actor. And if Lachlan Campbell is to 
be my last effort, there is something beau- 
tifully fitting in ringing down the final cur- 
tain on " Beside the Bonnie Brier Bush/' 
so suggestive in its setting of my earliest 
stage days. 

Charles Frohman produced "The Only 
Way/' with Henry Miller as the star, at 
the Herald Square Theater, September 
19, 1899, and I then rejoined him for the 
part of Lorry. My old friend D. H. 
Harkins, whom I had met years ago in 
Montreal, was also in the cast, and it gave 
me an opportunity of renewing an acquain- 
tance made when we were both much 
younger. After its New York run we 
toured the country with "The Only Way." 
Mr. Miller's performance of Carton I have 
always admired. I am indebted to him 
for his uniform kindness and consideration 
during the period I had the pleasure of 
being associated with him. 

When our season closed, Mr. Miller 
247 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

played an engagement in San Francisco. 
The success achieved was well deserved, 
for the company was a fine one, consisting 
of Frank Worthing, E. J. Morgan, Charles 
Walcot, Miss Margaret Anglin, Margaret 
Dale, Mrs. Thomas Whiffen, and a number 
of other well-known people. Mr. Miller 
was kind enough to ask me to go with him 
at this time ; his season, however, being a 
long one, and necessitating a frequent 
change of bill, I felt that now the study 
would be too arduous for me. As, how- 
ever, he ended his season with "The Only 
Way," my old friend Harkins and I 
joined him for that production and played 
our original parts. I was glad of an op- 
portunity to renew the acquaintance of 
old friends at "Frisco," and more than 
pleased to find that they had not forgotten 
me. The business for the two weeks dur- 
ing which "The Only Way" was per- 
formed was enormous, and there is no 
doubt that its run could have been ex- 
tended for a considerable time had not 
arrangements been made for its produc- 
tion elsewhere. The company played in 
248 



KECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYEE 

most of the important cities on its way 
homeland in Salt Lake I had another 
chance of meeting my old friends who had 
acted with me in "Saints and Sinners." 
On this occasion we were pleasantly en- 
tertained—Mr. Miller and I— by Mr. 
Whitney, at whose honse we met Gover- 
nor Wells and many pleasant people. 
Salt Lake, if I may jndge from my own 
experience, is, for its size, one of the best 
of theatrical cities. 

Mr. Miller, whose health had been im- 
paired, was obliged to retire from the 
company when we reached Colorado 
Springs, deciding that it was necessary to 
return to New York to consult his physi- 
cian. His part in "The Only Way" was 
taken by Mr. E. J. Morgan, who played 
the part at a few hours' notice and gave 
a highly creditable performance. We 
visited Cleveland and Detroit, and in due 
course arrived in New York. 

I have been frequently asked for my 
opinion regarding the relative merits of 
performances and performers of the pres- 
ent day as compared with those of the old 
249 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYEK 

times. In fact, very recently a friend said 
to me : "Mr. Stoddart, you are an old- 
timer. I remember you when you used 
to be at the Broome Street Theater with 
Wallack. Why can't we have such per- 
formances and such companies nowadays ? " 
I really was unable to make a satisfactory 
reply. I endeavored to explain that al- 
though my long experience and my age 
truly classified me as an old-timer, yet as 
I had been in harness continually since 
1854, trying always to keep abreast of the 
times and the younger element, and as far 
as possible to avoid being considered anti- 
quated, I scarcely thought myself a proper 
judge. A comparison of the old with 
the new order of things is somewhat diffi- 
cult. Mr. Coghlan and Mr. Thorne I re- 
garded as modern in style, and I considered 
them both artists in every sense of the 
word. On the other hand, Blake, Burton, 
Gilbert, Brougham, Placide, and Fisher 
might be said to represent the old school. 
Time, I imagine, has little to do with 
ability. 'T is the individual, not the 
period, 

35Q 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

The attention given to production is 
now so infinitely more careful and thor- 
ough than in the old days as to admit of 
no comparison. The same old stock sce- 
nery, formerly used year after year, would 
be looked upon as a very poor apology for 
the manner in which plays are now put 
upon the stage. The same advancement 
applies to incidental music, and in fact to 
all the details connected with the conduct 
of the theater. To those, however, enter- 
ing the theatrical profession with the idea 
of making it their life-work, I say that I 
think the old system immeasurably better 
than that of the present time. As in all 
occupations it is well to be grounded in 
the rudimental portions of the work, so no 
less does this rule apply to the theatrical 
profession. There was no royal road to 
position in the old days, but most people 
had to commence at the bottom of the 
ladder and ascend it gradually, the goal 
being its top. And if one never climbed 
very high, yet the very strife and endeavor 
of itself gave to him that repose, that ease 
of deportment, which I think quite essen- 
251 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYEE 

tial in the actor. Such discipline was 
formerly deemed necessary, and if, after 
submitting to it, one was not found par- 
ticularly brilliant, one was at least ex- 
perienced, which sometimes means much. 

"I have observed," said my friend, "how 
distinctly at ease and self-possessed are 
the old members of your profession when 
on the stage. I suppose your real old- 
timer never knows what it is to be ner- 
vous." 

"My dear sir," I said, "he is the one 
who generally suffers most in that respect. 
Mr. Macready was always greatly upset if 
there was the slightest noise while he was 
acting. Mr. Charles Kean came to a full 
stop one night, and remarked to the au- 
dience : ' Ladies and gentlemen : I have 
been so distracted by the talking and noise 
behind the scenes that it has completely 
driven the words out of my head. I must 
claim your indulgence until I consult the 
prompter.' " 

Mr. John Gilbert, in his day one of our 
most striking actors, often became really 
ill on the occasion of first-night perform- 
252 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

ances. I can remember when we produced 
a piece called "Progress" at Wallack's 
that he had rehearsed for days and in which 
he was letter-perfect. But at night he 
completely balked. When he came off 
the stage he said : "Mrs. Gilbert heard me 
repeat the part three times before coming 
to the theater, but this infernal lack of 
nerve has played the deuce with me." 

Oh, how many times the old stager en- 
vies the younger player who sets about his 
work undisturbed, wondering at the trepi- 
dation of his older and more experienced 
associate ! On the eve of a new produc- 
tion I have often left home muttering 
over the words of some long part and very 
doubtful as to the result of my efforts ; and 
on my return my wife, who, I think, was 
if possible more nervous for me than I 
for myself, would say, "Well, how did you 
get on*?" And if I answered, as I fre- 
quently did, that I feared I had not done 
very well, "Nonsense ! " she would say, 
"how did your part go with the audi- 
ence 1 ?" When I would reply that I 
had received a good deal of applause, 
253 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

"Then, dear," she would add, "you are 
all right." 

In reviewing my career I see plenty to 
find fault with, even in my own estimation ; 
but as an old-timer trying to keep pace 
with my younger companions, I have had 
to assume so many different roles that it 
is scarcely to be expected that I should 
have proved satisfactory in all. I think I 
can in all truthfulness assert that to what- 
ever work has been allotted me I have en- 
deavored always to bring sincerity of pur- 
pose, and whether good, bad, or indiffer- 
ent parts have been my portion have ever 
tried to serve the public to the best of my 
ability. And it is this thought of being 
" all righ twith the public," the kind con- 
sideration and indulgence on its part under 
all circumstances, ever lenient toward my 
faults and quick to show appreciation of 
any merit I might possess, that has been 
my main support during a long career. 

In conclusion, I trust that the theater- 
goer of to-day, as well as the younger mem- 
bers of my profession, will not regard these 
pages as altogether without value, and that 
254 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER 

they will be interested with me in. taking 
a retrospective view of bygone days. 

The old times, the many brilliant com- 
rades who have left me behind, must ever 
hold the first place in my recollections. 

Time but the impression stronger makes, 
As streams their channels deeper wear. 



255 



SEP 16 1902 



1 COP^r DEL, ro CA 
SEP. 17 1902 



